


Into The Woods (Where It Begins)

by taeyyoo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Family Issues, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Minor Violence, Witches, don't go into the woods kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeyyoo/pseuds/taeyyoo
Summary: When Johnny convinces Mark to leave Seoul and his demons behind during summer break, he doesn’t know what he will find in his mother’s hometown. Sprawling beaches and old people in an even older town, maybe. Perhaps some closure.Definitely not haunted woods, missing children, and magical bloodlines. Most definitely not the cursed ballerino who hides dark secrets behind playful banter and a smile as radiant as the sun.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 24
Kudos: 86
Collections: NCT Bigbang Round 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! This was an idea I wanted to play with for a while so it was fun to finally be able to sit down and play around with it. Tbh every chapter was entirely written between the hours of 12 AM to 6 AM, so I hope you enjoy?
> 
> Big thanks to the fest mod, Shreya, for hosting!

In retrospect, maybe Mark should have bought more than two measly packs of chips, some M&Ms, and a Gatorade at their last stop.

“Do you see that?” Mark shifts where he’s sprawled messily in the passenger seat, squinting against the sun with dry eyes while his cousin hums in confusion. He can’t really feel his arms and legs anymore, not with the way his stomach is protesting and his throat feels as dry as a desert. But it’s really there. A strange, mutated rock on the side of the road. “Dude, it’s a chicken drumstick.”

“Huh? Wait, you’re right,” Johnny mutters under his breath as he continues driving down the empty road, eyes darting back to follow the yellow line mapped out on the GPS. Mark thinks he hasn’t blinked since they got lost an hour ago when they took the wrong exit. “It does look like a chicken drumstick. Even has the bone and everything.”

His stomach chooses then to let out a sad, hungry grumble that makes Johnny laugh. He glares down at it before digging in the bag they tossed the snacks in, frowning when he comes up empty. “Is there a stop nearby? You’ve driven for three hours straight.”

“We’re almost there, Mark,” Johnny snorts, “just another half hour or so. I told you not to eat everything.”

“You ate more than me!” 

Johnny feigns a hurt look in his direction before he sighs at the pout on his face, reaching up to pull a packet from the sun visor. He tosses it into Mark’s lap, who looks up at him in disbelief. “Here.”

“You hid a packet of beef jerky there?”

“I was saving it for later.”

Well, he can’t say anything when he’s done worse while hanging out with his friends. Mark hums his thanks under his breath and wrestles the packet open, reaching over to stick a strip of jerky into Johnny’s mouth. He buries himself back into his uncomfortable seat and looks out the window again as he chews on his own piece.

Jaegu, a small town nearly three and a half hours away from Seoul. Where his mom grew up as a child, surrounded by the ocean and families who have lived there for generations. Where everyone is close enough to know everyone and everything. 

Where people go to spend the rest of their days after retirement, Renjun had said.

Mark falls quiet when he catches a glimpse of the ocean sparkling under the sunlight. It’s beautiful, swirling in muted shades of blue and green in a rather nostalgic way. 

He rolls down his window and leans against the door, tasting salt on his tongue, wondering why the view makes his heart clench so tight it hurts.

☾

When Johnny first mentioned the trip and renting the cottage for the whole summer, Mark had decided on the spot that he _absolutely_ had to go with him. He remembers the way his mom used to describe the beloved two-story cottage and its quaint garden in the back with fondness in her eyes. At the time, he could vividly picture the whole cottage just from her descriptions alone.

Even though his memory isn’t as good as it used to be, he thinks as he steps out of the car, this is beyond what he had pictured in his head.

To say that the cottage is a mess is an absolute understatement. 

Mark gawks at the way the house exterior is covered in tangled foliage on the sides, looking like the malfunctioning chia pet Johnny gifted him once as a kid. He still remembers how horrified he was when the package said it would look like Bob Ross, but turned out looking like a bush with eyes peeking out at him. This is that chia pet.

The roof and shingles looked nice with their washed out teal colors, but the white paint job on the rest of the house is yellow with age, paint chipping off in large chunks. Some parts of the patio look like they have been mauled by an animal at one point, what looked like teeth marks in the wood.

Johnny doesn’t even bother popping open the trunk to grab their luggage, mouth open in shock as he steps around the car to stand next to him.

He must be imagining it, the way the wooden porch seems to creak in the presence of wind. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” Johnny echoes quietly from his left. 

They take their chances and carefully walk up the stairs leading to the porch. It trembles under their weight, as if one wrong step could send them tumbling into the dirt below. 

“Here, you do the honors.” Johnny tosses him the keys and leans back precariously on the railing, unbothered even when it makes the loudest creak he has ever heard. 

When he sticks the key into the keyhole, the entire doorknob falls off under his hands. Mark stares at the doorknob in his hand, then back at the hole in the wood before turning to Johnny with wide eyes. “ _Dude_.”

“This can be fixed,” Johnny says cheerfully after a beat of silence as he takes the doorknob and tosses it somewhere behind them, using his foot to gently kick open the front door. “Ignore that. Let’s check this baby out.”

At least it looks way nicer on the inside, a thin layer of dust covering a dark mahogany hardwood floor with a hint of red that contrasts well with the white walls.

Mark pulls the collar of his shirt over his nose as they step into what he supposes is the living room, eyes already tearing up as he blindly reaches out to grab the hem of Johnny’s shirt. 

There are white sheets covering the furniture, what looks to be two sofas and a coffee table with an oriental rug underneath. A large painting hangs uncovered on the wall, swirls of vivid blues, greens, and whites like the ocean they drove past earlier. 

Mark can’t help but stare ― the water looks like it’s alive. 

Johnny simply nods approvingly at it and leads them straight to the kitchen.

“Who rented us this cottage again?” Mark asks as he runs a finger down the cool marble countertop, pulling down his collar to blow at the dust he picked up. “Nothing wrong with it, but everything seems really… unkempt.”

“I think it was a Kim Hyerin or something.” Johnny makes a noise in his throat when he opens one of the cabinet doors and breaks it, blinking at the pitiful door he holds in his hands. Mark raises an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, this can be fixed.”

Mark sighs and goes to the sink to test it out. The faucet handle doesn’t even budge under his grip. He pulls a little harder before he figures it’s best to just leave it alone. It isn’t worth the risk of flooding the cottage on their first day. “I don’t think anything works here.”

A loud thud makes him jump. He twirls around to look at Johnny, who looks guilty while another cabinet door lays on the floor by his feet.

“This can be fixed.” Johnny repeats with a strained smile on his face.

☾

“Don’t worry,” their neighbor had told them when he saw Johnny sweeping dust out of the cottage the size of a tumbleweed, “I’ll get someone to fix everything up for you. Just go have some lunch and explore the shops for a bit.” He had paused for a while before adding, “And stay out of the woods. It’s not safe out there.”

Four hours later, the cottage looks perfectly new, as if everything they had seen before was just a figment of their imagination. They nearly drove past it on their way back, unable to recognize it.

Johnny lets out a low whistle and reaches out to touch the pristine white paint on the walls, fingers coming off dry. “How is this even possible?”

“Dude, I’m telling you. It’s magic or something.” Mark grunts as he lugs his heavy suitcase out of the back of the car, placing it next to him so he could grab his duffel bag as well.

“Huh.” Johnny comes over and effortlessly pulls his suitcase from the back, slipping on his backpack before going up the porch stairs. It doesn’t even creak under his weight. “You know, this reminds me of that time Aunt Miyoung managed to decorate the whole house for Christmas while we were out playing in the snow. Only an hour and she managed to get the trees, decorations, and lights done.”

“And the food too,” Mark added fondly, “it was insane. She did it every year somehow.”

“Yeah, it will probably be the same this year too.”

Johnny doesn’t mention how Mark hasn’t seen her or any of the Seo family ever since his mom disappeared, despite the yearly invitation. He just gives him a knowing smile and heads into the cottage with his luggage. It’s something he really appreciates, how his cousin knows him well enough. Sometimes even better than he knows himself, it seems.

Maybe after this trip, Mark thinks as he follows him inside, toeing off his shoes at the entrance. He will find the courage to reach out to them again.

“Oh my god,” Johnny breathes out as he sets his shoes and luggage by the foot of the stairs, taking in the cleaned rooms in awe. He turns to look at Mark, gesturing wildly at the cabinets in the kitchen that he had broken before, now perfectly fine and shining like new. “They really fixed everything.”

With the dust gone and the furniture uncovered, Mark thinks he can finally see a little glimpse of the home his mom grew up in. It’s nice and cozy, with slightly mismatched furniture that somehow looked aesthetically pleasing regardless. 

Mark heads into the kitchen, spotting a bright yellow sticky note stuck on the refrigerator. He carefully plucks it off and stares at the loopy handwriting, pleasantly surprised to see that it was written in English rather than Korean. 

_Hello, neighbors!_

_Mr. Son asked me to clean up the cottage for you._

_There’s still a bit of dust in the rooms upstairs, but the rest of the cottage should be clean._

_One of the rooms is to remain locked, btw._

_Previous owner’s order, so please don’t try breaking in. :’(_

_I hope that you enjoy your stay here!_

_-TY_

“TY?” Johnny asks as he peers over his shoulder at the sticky note, blinking at the little cartoon duck drawn in the bottom corner. “I wonder who that is.”

“Can’t believe one person cleaned this up.”

“As you said before ― magic. Anyways, let’s go pick our rooms so we can finally _rest_.”

Johnny pretends to make a dash for it, but Mark knows his cousin will give him whatever room he wants. Perks of being young and cute, in his words. True enough, he’s standing in the hallway waiting for him when he finally makes his way up the stairs, luggage against the wall. 

There are two open rooms, the bigger one probably the master bedroom while the smaller one was closer to the stairs, right across from the bathroom. At the end of the hallway is a closed door, probably the locked room that was mentioned in the sticky note. Maybe it’s just a storage room. 

“I’ll take the smaller room.”

“Are you sure? I’m okay if you want the bigger room.”

“I’m good.”

“Ok, that’s settled.” Johnny shrugs and slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling his suitcase behind him as he enters the master bedroom. “I’m going to clean up and take a nap before unpacking.”

Mark grabs his things and enters the room. It only has an uncovered twin-sized bed, a wooden desk with a matching nightstand, and an office chair in terms of furniture. There are fairy lights hung by the ceiling, but they don’t turn on when he messes with the switch by the floor. No batteries. He peeks out the window, seeing that he can climb onto a section of the roof if he wanted. All in all, not too bad.

“Hey, mom?” Mark whispers under his breath as he gently touches the front pocket of his shorts, where he knows the faded picture of his mom is carefully tucked into his wallet. “Welcome home.”

☾

There’s a brown shoebox in the far corner underneath the bed. 

He even checks twice to make sure that yes, it is actually there. It exists. Strange, given how the rest of the rooms are completely empty. Mark uses the broom to slide it closer to him, trying his best to squeeze under the bed as far as he could. After several unsuccessful tries, he finally manages to slide in close enough for him to grab with his fingers. He immediately winces as he touches a thick layer of dust, perhaps even some cobwebs.

It’s honestly just a shoebox with old glow-in-the-dark star stickers stuck on the sides, faded writing on the side probably written in chalk or crayon.

Curiosity gets the better of him. 

Mark blows the dust off of the shoebox and immediately regrets his actions, sneezing as some of it goes up his nose. With watery eyes, he quickly wipes away the dust before popping open the lid. He blinks when he’s greeted by a pair of faded pink ballet shoes that probably belonged to a small child. “Huh.” 

Onto the ground they go. There’s a small black journal underneath tied several times with a red shoelace, the words ‘DO NOT READ’ written in blocky white letters. Underneath on the bottom right, it spells ‘Property of Lee Donghyuck’ with a pair of sunflower stickers around it.

 _Who is Donghyuck?_ The name sounds awfully familiar, but he can’t place where he had heard it from. Mark doesn’t really want to intrude on someone else’s diary, no matter how curious he is, so he sticks it into the bottom drawer of his nightstand. 

Out of sight, out of mind.

There are only two items left in the shoebox. He picks up a necklace made with a thin silver chain, where it looks like a plain house key is attached. Probably this Donghyuck kid’s key for the cottage, he thinks as it joins the diary in the drawer, nothing special. When he lived back in Toronto, his mom had given him two copies of their house key just in case he got lost.

Johnny knocks on the door and peeks in, a clean spatula in one hand. “Hey, I’m making breakfast for dinner— oh, that’s pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” Mark hums under his breath as he pulls the final item out of the box. Johnny steps in to take a closer look. 

It’s a rounded music box painted white with gold embellishments, only slightly chipped on the bottom. He opens it and gasps at the sight of the little ballerino standing on one leg, waist bent and arms raised above a head of pale orange hair. It’s wearing a flowy white dress shirt and high waisted black pants, reminding him of a rather elegant-looking pirate. Or prince. “Wow.”

“Huh, the owner took really good care of it,” Johnny says as he gently rotates the little doll in the box. Mark attempts to wind it up, but nothing happens. “There’s no music though. It’s probably jammed or broken.”

“Too bad.” Mark carefully closes the music box, frowning as he sniffs the air. It faintly smells like burnt rubber. “Dude, what’s that smell?”

“What smell?” Johnny’s brows furrow as he takes an experimental sniff, wrinkling his nose. He suddenly freezes, eyes wide as he stares at Mark. “Ah, the eggs!” 

Mark laughs as Johnny stumbles out of the room, his heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs as he races for the kitchen. He can hear him noisily moving the pots around and cracking open the window, cussing nonstop even though he always scolds Mark for doing so. “Let me go help him.”

He places the music box on the nightstand before heading to the door, pausing for a moment when he feels a tingling sensation in his hands. _That’s weird_. Casting one more look at the music box, he shakes his head and leaves the room.

It felt strangely warm. 

☾

Mark wakes up late in the afternoon after a restless night’s sleep, finding the cottage empty besides a covered plate of pancakes on the kitchen counter with a note from Johnny stuck on it. A meeting with his client. After a quick breakfast and an hour of wandering around the house looking for something to do besides unpacking the rest of his belongings, he decides to head to the market for groceries.

It’s only a fifteen minute walk, but the sun is beating down on him, making it feel more like an hour instead. At least the ocean breeze that passes by cools him down a little, even if the salt in the air makes the thin fabric of his t-shirt stick to his back. He uses his reusable grocery bag as a makeshift hat on the way there.

From what he had seen the day before, the Jaegu market is always bustling with energy. There are little stalls along the side of the street selling various goods, from fresh seafood caught in the early morning to handmade trinkets and souvenirs. Everything is a lot cheaper here than in Seoul. The energy reminds him of the school festivals they used to have when he was in high school, where each club set up stalls to recruit unsuspecting students. 

“Fresh bread, just pulled from the oven! Come get them while they’re still hot!”

“Can I have a dozen eggs?”

“Crisp apples, freshly picked from the orchard!” 

“These amulets are all hand painted by my daughter and I.”

Mark stops by a couple stalls to pick up a small watermelon, holding it gingerly in his arms before also purchasing a loaf of warm bread and a bag of apples. He debates between getting some chicken or beef for a moment before grabbing a packet of chicken. They have some onions, peas, carrots, and spices back at the cottage, so maybe they could try making a quick chicken pot pie of sorts. 

Well, Johnny will be cooking. Honestly, Mark is a bit of a hazard in the kitchen even if he tries his best. At least he’s making some progress lately.

He makes his way past each stall until he reaches one at the corner of the market, an assortment of multicolor stones and pouches laid out for sale. Despite the heat, the objects are cool to the touch, almost icy. His fingertips tingle when he pulls away.

“See anything you like?”

Mark jumps at the sound of a voice, nearly dropping his groceries as an old woman appears out of nowhere. She flashes him a bright, toothy grin. “I’m sorry for scaring you, dear.”

“It’s fine.” He laughs awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Wait a minute. Oh my!” The old woman comes out from behind her stall and reaches out to pinch his cheek with a laugh. He smiles back politely, trying not to wince at the gesture, confused. “You’re back in Jaegu! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Mark shifts his watermelon to his other arm, brows furrowed as he takes in her words. This is his first time ever visiting Jaegu, he knows for sure. “I’m sure you have the wrong person. I haven’t been here before.”

“Lee Minhyung, you don’t remember me?” At the shocked expression on his face, she raises an eyebrow. “Hm. I see.” Even though she’s nearly a head shorter than him, it’s rather intimidating, the way she studies him carefully. “Well, this will be rather interesting, won’t it?”

 _Okaayyy._ This is getting a bit strange ― a random old woman knows his name. There are warning sirens blaring in his head, telling him to _get out of here_. Mark plasters a fake smile on his face and gestures to his groceries. “Haha…? I’m sorry, I kind of have to go now…”

“When you finally remember,” she says with a hint of a smile on her face, “come and visit, won’t you? I think you may need some guidance.”

“W-will do,” he says as he gives a quick bow. He’s spooked by their interaction, definitely spooked. “Have a nice day.”

Mark doesn’t stop speed walking away until he’s far from her stall, out of her sight. He sinks to the ground behind a van, hugging the watermelon to his chest as he takes a couple of breaths to calm himself. She knew him somehow. Even if he has never met her before in his life.

The logical part of his brain reminds himself that in towns like Jaegu, everyone knows everyone and everything. If she knew his mom, then it’s possible she knows him. Still, he can’t help but feel his fight-or-flight response kicking in. 

His body shivers despite the summer heat. Maybe he should just head back to the cottage for now.

Mark sighs and stands up, ready to begin his short trek back, when he catches a flash of white in the corner of his eye.

There’s a boy his age standing in front of the woods, wearing a loose white t-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. He’s barefoot. Mark can’t see his face at all, but the sunlight streaming through the trees creates a bright halo above his pale orange hair. He looks like an angel, he thinks as he walks closer to get a better look as if in a trance.

“Hey, watch out!”

Mark quickly jerks out of the way as a little boy on a bike swerves in front of him, muttering under his breath when he sees the little middle finger the kid throws at him. He turns back to find the orange-haired boy, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Gone.

As he stares at the spot under the trees where he was only a few seconds ago, his neighbor’s words ring in his head over and over, like a mantra. 

_Stay out of the woods. It’s not safe out there._

☾

There is an art to cutting meat and vegetables that Mark, sadly, has not yet mastered.

Johnny looks up from the dough he is currently laying out into a pie pan, laughing when Mark lifts the piece of cooked chicken for him to look at. “It looks like one of those paper chains we made when you were in elementary school.” He smiles fondly at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry. You’re doing better than last time.”

Mark makes a noise of protest as he leans away from the touch, watching as half of the chicken falls back onto the cutting board with a wet slap. It kind of reminds him of shredded pork. “You had flour on your hands. That’s _unsanitary_.”

“Oops.”

He shakes his head and lets the white residue fly out of his hair while Johnny goes to wash his hands. While he hacks at the chicken with his knife again, he wonders if he should mention the incident with the old woman and orange-haired boy at the market earlier. He definitely doesn’t want Johnny to send him back to Seoul thinking that the Jaegu air is making him go crazy.

Yeah, maybe he should keep this to himself for now.

“Alright, you can stick the chicken in this now,” Johnny says as he stirs the pot on the stove while squinting at the recipe on his phone, “I think.”

He drops the chicken into the pot, along with the diced carrots they had picked from the garden in the backyard. Johnny pours in the peas before mixing everything together, wafting the smell over to Mark with his hand. “It smells good, doesn’t it?”

Mark nods enthusiastically, his mouth already watering at the scent of their pie filling. “Yeah! It’s making me hungry.”

Johnny stares at the pot for a minute before he cracks some black pepper into it. Stares. Throws in some salt. Stares. Stirs it for a bit. When he deems it ready, they pour it into the pie pan and cover it with the top layer of dough. All that is left is to wait for it to bake.

The two of them set their stools in front of the oven, and sit there for a bit, playing music from Johnny’s playlist softly in the background. Mark responds to some of the texts from some of his friends before setting his phone into his pocket, closing his eyes as he lightly bobs his head to the music. He can hear Johnny getting up and checking on the pie, making a noise of approval.

“It’s done!” he sings as he pulls it out with a pair of mismatched oven mitts, “I think we did a great job this time.”

“Whoa… it looks like those pies in the Pillsbury commercials.”

The pie looks puffy on the top and slightly crisp on the edges, but it smells amazing. In a way, it reminds him of a giant dome. They fan at the pie with their hands in an attempt to cool it down faster. After a few minutes, Johnny goes to dig for a knife in their cabinets while Mark grabs a couple of plates and forks.

“Dude, it’s deflating!” Mark laughs as the top of the pie starts to sink in like a sad balloon once the knife cuts in. 

It ends up a tad bit salty and the dough at the bottom is soggy, but Mark thinks this is the best meal he has ever had in a while. 

☾

_He runs and runs, until the cold rain seeps deep and heavy into his bones._

_People stare at him when he dashes through the crowd, a soaked kid with mismatched shoes and a bright red handprint on his cheek. No one stops by to help him, though. They just stare and stare and stare with pity. It brings the sting of fresh tears to his eyes, burning even more than his throbbing cheek._

_Mark doesn’t know how long he wanders or where he is. He just knows that he is numb and the downpour is now a light drizzle._

_“—ARK? MARK!”_

_“Johnny?” His voice comes out in a rasp, barely audible. He doesn’t know if he’s shaking because of the cold or the tears that run down his face._

_“Oh my god.” Johnny drops his umbrella to the ground, quickly taking off his denim jacket and draping it over his trembling body. He pulls him in for a tight hug, repeating over and over, “Mark, you’re okay. You’re okay.”_

_It’s like the rubber bands keeping him together are pulled too tight, until they finally snap under the pressure, and all he can do is cry. Johnny holds him like he might slip away at any time, murmuring reassurances into his hair. He is crying too. “Why’d you run away from home? Do you know how worried I was when I got the call?”_

_“I’m sorry, I—”_

_“Shh, don’t apologize. What happened?”_

_“He hit me,” he hiccups into his cousin’s chest after a beat of silence, “it was an accident, but he still_ **_hit_ ** _me.”_

_Mark hears a soft gasp and flinches when Johnny tenderly touches the bruised skin on his cheek, fingers cold as ice. There is a stormy look in his eye that worries him ― he realizes that he is scared Johnny will drive up to the apartment and confront him. It must show on his face because Johnny is shaking his head._

_“You’re not going back.” Johnny says fiercely, hands shaking as he pushes Mark’s wet hair from his face. “You’ll stay with me for now, okay? We’ll figure this out.”_

_He doesn’t know if he ever will figure it out, but the voices in his head quiet down a little like a receding tide._

_“Okay.”_

☾

It is nearly three in the morning and an unfamiliar melody is playing in his head.

Mark bites back a groan of frustration as he tosses in his bed yet again, closing his eyes and willing his body to sleep. He counts sheep until he loses track of the times he started over. Tries clearing his mind. He even does some of the stretches he googled. Sleep still manages to evade him and the strange song he woke up to still plays in his head. 

He sighs and gets out of bed, slipping into a pair of slippers before he carefully opens the door to his room. Careful not to wake Johnny, he tip toes down the stairs and heads into the kitchen. He grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it with some water, downing it right away. 

It doesn’t clear his head the way he thought it would. There is a strange tingling sensation all over his body that doesn’t feel right. Like there is a quiet surge of energy running in his veins.

He ignores it and fills up the glass again, heading back to his room.

Johnny lets out a loud snore when he passes his closed door and Mark feels a hint of jealousy at how he always manages to fall asleep early every night.

The first thing he notices is the gentle breeze that raises goosebumps on his arms, which is weird because he knows the window is closed. He shrugs it off and enters his room, closing the door behind him. Mark manages to take three steps before he looks up and sees a figure by his _closed_ window. 

Pale orange hair and golden skin. An oversized white t-shirt tucked into black jeans with rips at the knees. Slightly droopy eyes wide in shock, shining with tears. There is a soft silver glow around him like moonlight, making him look a bit translucent, a bit like a ghost. It’s the boy from the market.

Mark blinks in disbelief and rubs at his eyes with his free hand, wondering if it was the lack of sleep getting to him. There is no way that someone could be in his room. Absolutely no way.

“Mark,” the boy breathes out shakily, “you’re back.”

Mark drops his glass of water onto the floor, not even paying attention when the glass shatters against the hardwood, water splashing over his slippers. The boy flinches at the noise and takes a step forward. “Wait, careful—”

“W-what the fuck?” Mark quickly stumbles away, breathing heavily as his back hits the wall. He reaches out for a potential weapon, but comes empty, grabbing one of the slippers off of his feet and pointing it at him. “Who are you? How did you get in my room?”

A mix of confusion and hurt paints the other boy’s face. He looks so devastated that Mark feels his own heart clench in sympathy. “You don’t remember me?”

“How would I remember you, dude? I’ve never seen you before!”

They stare at each other for a moment. The boy lets out a sad laugh and slides to the floor, putting his head in his hands. “You’re finally _here_ and you don’t remember me? This is an absolute joke.”

 _God, what is it with people in this town, knowing me when I definitely don’t know them_?

Despite his initial fear, Mark finds that he isn’t as scared of getting attacked or robbed anymore. Or maybe it’s just his brain just being stupid from sleep deprivation. He has always been too trusting, Johnny says. “Uh, you good?”

“Oh, I’m _great_.” Mark flinches at the sarcasm in his voice, eyes burning holes into his face as he lifts his head up. “I’m fan-fucking-tastic, Mark.”

“Oh,” he says quietly, a bit dumbfounded, “sorry.”

Another awkward moment of silence. 

“ _Haechan_.”

“Huh?”

The boy snorts. “You can call me Haechan, okay? At least remember that.”

 _Haechan_. Mark mouths the name under his breath, watching as Haechan nods approvingly, more calm than he was before. Still just as vulnerable. There is something about him that almost seems familiar, but Mark can’t quite place where he had seen his face before other than the market.

Before he can open his mouth and ask a million questions like he desperately wants to, he hears footsteps padding towards his room. 

“Mark?” He startles as he hears Johnny’s panicked voice behind the door, eyes darting from Haechan to the closed door. “I’m coming in.”

The bedroom door flies open and Johnny rushes in with a baseball bat in his hand, eyes narrowed as he surveys the room. His eyes zero in on Mark, pressed pitifully against the wall with a slipper in his hand, before they travel down to the shattered glass on the floor. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh.” Mark turns to look at Haechan, blinking when the boy isn’t there anymore. Gone again without a trace. He gapes like a fish for a moment before turning to Johnny. “Um,” his brain unhelpfully supplies.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, resting the bat on his shoulder. It looks ridiculously small in comparison to his tall frame. “I heard yelling.”

“There was a bug,” he blurts out, face heating up when Johnny gives him a look. “Like a really fat bug? Really ugly thing.”

“A bug.”

He wants to sink into the hardwood floor and let it swallow him whole at this point. “Yeah. It’s gone though, I think.”

Johnny looks like he aged ten years and is on the verge of laughing and crying at the same time. “Okay. Let’s get cleaned up and we can go back to bed.”

Mark lets out a silent sigh of relief that he doesn’t question him. He steps over the pile of glass and water to grab some tissues from the bathroom while Johnny stumbles downstairs for the broom. They silently clean up the mess and vacuum the area just in case. Johnny even waits until Mark is tucked into his bed before he turns to head back to his room.

“You know,” Johnny says softly as he lingers by the door, “if there’s anything bothering you, I’m here? I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know.” He swallows the lump in his throat and tightens his grip on his blanket. “I know you’ll always be here. And I’ll tell you when something comes up, I promise.”

It’s a lie and he knows how cruel it is of him, but Johnny has already helped him so much. Back then and now, he has always been looking out for him even when he has so much on his plate. Mark doesn't want him to worry so much. 

“Good night, Mark.”

“Good night.”

Mark waits until Johnny is out of earshot before he sits up again, squinting in the dark to survey his room. The sound of his breathing is the only audible thing in the room. 

“Haechan?” he whispers quietly, trying again when there isn’t a response, “Haechan? You there?”

It’s as if the boy had been a figment of his imagination, nothing more than one of the ghosts Mark is so familiar with chasing.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“Am I a ghost magnet”, Mark types into the google search bar before backspacing. Types. Erases. Types again. He groans and throws his phone onto his bed, burying his face into the blanket. This is ridiculous, he tells himself, he is being ridiculous. Looking up his name didn’t give him any useful information either. 

Haechan simply doesn’t exist.

“Oh my god. What do I do?” He lets out a wail into his blanket. “What do I do?”

_ What can one do when haunted by a ghost? _

An hour, an existential crisis, and several failed attempts at calling out the elusive boy later, Mark finds himself at the kitchen counter with a bowl of watermelon in his hand. He sticks another cube in his mouth and chews contemplatively. 

One, he could tell Johnny everything. There is a slight chance that he may be sent back to Seoul for an exorcism, but at least he could get a second opinion on things. Johnny might get their aunt Miyoung involved though and he’d rather not have that.

Two, he could make a summoning circle like the one Yukhei tried when they got drunk one time. Honestly it didn’t work then, but maybe if he stays sober, it just might work now. On the off chance he accidentally summons an unwanted demon or something, he can just call Renjun to kick ass. Yeah, a demon would probably be scared of Renjun. Jeno’s too much of a sweetheart to be threatening.

Mark wonders if Haechan might show up again if he went back to the place he first saw him, at the edge of the woods. It’s worth a shot, he thinks as he covers his bowl and puts it back in the refrigerator for later. He’ll check out the area and see if anything shows up. 

His thoughts are interrupted by three sharp knocks at the door.  _ Who could it be?  _ They hardly get visitors, just neighbors who stop by every once in a while to check up on them. He slips out of the kitchen to answer it.

Nope, a police officer stands on their porch. Mark shrinks closer to the door instinctively. Maybe the universe is telling him not to do anything stupid. “Um, hello?”

“Oh, you must be one of the renters,” the young officer says, sticking his hand out for a handshake. There are heavy dark circles underneath his eyes that Mark almost winces at. “I’m Officer Choi Haesoo.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he replies as he cautiously shakes his hand, “I’m Mark.”

“Likewise. You’re not in trouble. I just have a quick question.” He says with a faint smile, as if sensing his discomfort. Officer Choi holds out his phone, a picture of two children on the small screen. “Have you seen these two recently?”

Mark takes it from him and looks at the little girl in pigtails, shaking his head. He does recognize the little boy in a red helmet, two fingers stuck up by his chin. He definitely remembers the matching bike propped up behind him. “It’s the kid that flipped me off at the market yesterday.”

Officer Choi gives him a strange look. “Did you see where he was going?”

“He was riding his bike towards the beach, I think? Not completely sure, since I came back to the cottage after that.” Mark scratches the back of his neck. “Why are you asking?”

“Kang Chaewon was last seen two days ago, and Lee Minho disappeared last night,” Officer Choi says, a grim look on his face. 

His blood runs cold. “Disappeared? Like kidnapped?”

“We can’t be sure yet, but this isn’t the first time we’ve had a case like this.” Officer Choi gives him a tired smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I have to go, but if you do see anything, please let me know.” 

“I will.”

Mark stays there long after he leaves, mind stuck on the thought of missing children and things that aren’t as they seem.

☾

Someone finds Lee Minho at the entrance of the woods the next morning, clothes covered in dry mud but otherwise unharmed. In the interview on tv, his eyes look glazed over, a little cloudy like someone placed a film over them. Johnny makes a noise of sympathy next to him on the couch. 

“I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything.”

He gets to go home, but Kang Chaewon doesn’t. 

☾

_ “Do you know about our family’s magic, baby?” _

_ The boy looks up from the book in his lap to the woman sitting underneath the tree. “Magic?” _

_ “Magic,” she affirms with a laugh, coming over to sit by his side. Her white silk dress billows out behind her like a trail of snow against the grass. “I’m sure Hyuckie told you already.” _

_ He nods. After all, his best friend always tells him everything. His family has the strongest magic and one day, he will show signs of it too. There isn’t anything yet, but someday. _

_ She brushes his hair from his face carefully, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He freezes when he feels the warmth of tears on his mom’s face and whines, reaching out to comfort her. “Mom?” _

_ “Shh, I have a gift for you,” she whispers as she holds him close, breath ticking the hairs at the top of his head when she speaks. “I’m sorry, baby, but Mom has no choice.” _

_ He can’t see her face from this angle, but he feels it. An unbearable heat that burns as it flows from her fingers into his skin, like the time he accidentally touched the hot stove. He screams, wriggling to try and escape from her grasp but she shushes him.  _

_ The tears that fall on his arms are cold like ice. She whispers apologies over and over and then it is done. _

_ There is a heavy fever that lurks under his skin, unnatural and searing. _

_ Magic that he should not have. _

☾

Mark coos at the picture Jeno sent to the groupchat of his three cats as he heads back to his room with a basket of laundry on his hip. After Johnny had fallen asleep at the table last night after dinner, drained after his client meeting, he had decided to do more chores so he wouldn’t have to. 

Except for cooking dinner on his own of course. He doesn’t want to burn down the cottage by accident. 

He kicks open the room and screams. The clean clothes spill onto the floor, basket bouncing near the boy lying on the ground in fetal position.

“That,” Haechan says with a grimace as he rubs at his ears, “was completely unnecessary.”

Mark opens and closes his mouth several times before he manages to find his voice again. “You’re  _ real _ .”

Haechan shoots him an offended look. “Duh, of course I am.”

He is wearing a loose black t-shirt with a smiley face on it that oddly looks like one of Mark’s, tucked into a pair of denim shorts and white socks that nearly reach his knees. Still barefoot. The front of his hair is tied up in a tiny ponytail that sticks up into the air like an antenna. 

Mark grabs the clothes from the floor and dumps them onto his bed. Despite how  _ strange _ the whole situation is, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable with his presence. Not even a little. If anything, he’s more confused than anything else.

He decides to just bite the bullet and ask. “Dude, what are you? If you’re a ghost here to haunt me, I’m not really interested.” Mark doesn’t expect him to erupt in a fit of giggles. “What?”

“I’m not a ghost, genius. Still very much alive.” Haechan brings his fingers up to his face and examines them, slightly translucent under the sunlight. He blinks and drops his hand against his stomach, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. “I’m a witch.”

Immediately, Mark’s mind supplies him with images of riding broomsticks and bubbling cauldrons, black cats and sparks of magic flying from wands. Flowing black robes and owls carrying letters. A castle with secret tunnels and hiding spots. Magical field trips. Harry Potter-type stuff he vaguely remembers from past Friday Film Nights with his friends. 

“I can almost hear you thinking from here, and no, it’s not like Harry Potter. There are spells, potions, and stuff, just without all the movie theatrics.”

Mark gives him a look. “Okay? Which reminds me, what was that a few days ago?” When Haechan gives him a blank expression, he sighs. “You know, popping up in my room, asking if I remember things I obviously wouldn’t. Does that ring a bell?”

“Oh. Uh, it was an honest mistake.” 

Mark raises an eyebrow, pointing at the other boy accusingly with a sock. “You said  _ my _ name. You called me Mark though.”

“So?” Haechan cranes his head up at him where he is currently starfished on the carpet. “There are a lot of guys named Mark. You aren’t that special.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that, rendered absolutely speechless. 

Haechan sits up and stares at him for a moment, a corner of his lips rising into a hint of a smirk. “By the way, rumor has it you called me a fat and ugly bug.”

Mark chokes, whirling around to look at him, appalled. “I did  _ not _ .”

Except he kind of did when he lied to Johnny. Not exactly his proudest moment. 

“My magic doesn’t lie,” Haechan sniffs, “Besides, I’m too pretty to be a bug, aren’t I?”

He bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly in his direction, fingers tapping against his cheeks as he tilts his head to the right. Mark’s brain unhelpfully blanks out again ― he finds that it does this rather frequently these days. He blurts out the first thing he thinks of instead. “Dude, why are you transparent?”

The fond smile on Haechan’s face is quickly replaced by something unreadable. Mark instantly regrets his stupid big mouth and internally chastices himself. The poor boy looks a bit like a kicked puppy right now.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he quickly says with an awkward chuckle. “I mean, we hardly know each other, right? If you don’t want to share yet, that’s okay.”

Haechan sighs, a quiet exhale that he hardly hears. “Check the music box, Mark.”

“The music box?”

“Yeah, the music box,” he affirms.

Mark walks over to his nightstand and picks it up, shivering when he feels how warm the metal is to the touch. Almost like it’s alive. He shoots Haechan a questioning look, but he keeps his eyes trained on a spot on the floor by his feet. Shrugging, Mark carefully pops open the music box.

Like the first time he opened it, no music plays. His eyes land on the pretty ballerina figurine in the middle. It looks like the colors have bled from the figurine, leaving it completely white.

Mark feels like he’s drowning, like there is water rushing in his ears as the ocean pulls him further into its depths. “Oh my god.”

The boy in the music box.

Haechan’s gaze  _ burns _ , eyes flickering under the sunlight like fire as he pulls his legs to his chest and watches him. 

“Wanna hear a little story?"

☾

“Wait, wait, wait a sec,” Mark paces back and forth in the room, ignoring Haechan’s pouty face after he was interrupted for the hundredth time, “give me a second to process this.”

“Process what?” Haechan mutters with a not-so-subtle eye roll. “It’s not that hard to understand.”

He shoots him a frown and continues pacing, making a list in his head of what he gathered from the poorly told, extremely exaggerated story:

  1. Haechan was born a witch and, apparently, became a really good one. (Questionable.)
  2. There was another witch who practiced dark magic.
  3. The two of them had a showdown in the woods to see who was the better witch (???)
  4. Haechan kicked her ass but was extremely low on magic.
  5. He went into the music box to rest.
  6. She cursed him to stay in said music box.
  7. Oh, and he’s the one who lured children into the woods.



His brain really hurts.

Mark turns to look at Haechan, who is currently trying to eat  _ his _ sandwich. His fingers go right through the bread and he hisses in annoyance. He glares at Mark when he reaches over and snatches it from the plate, taking a big bite out of it as he leans against the counter. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” Mark shoots back at him as he takes another bite. It’s a chicken salad sandwich that Johnny added their leftover bacon to. Better than the hotdogs they ate for dinner three days in a row last week. “I just can’t believe you’re the one kidnapping people. Should I be worried?”

“Huh? What kind of person do you think I am, Mark Lee?” 

“Dude, I met you very recently. I have no idea what kind of person you are,” he deadpans.

“Fair enough.” Haechan looks mildly offended. “It’s not like I’m hurting anyone. Those kids don’t have enough magic to do anything. They’d just be normal afterwards.”

He hasn’t run into Lee Minho ever since he came back from the woods, but it’s nice to hear that he didn’t return a mindless zombie. Johnny has been on edge ever since it happened, always checking to make sure the doors and windows are locked multiple times before going to sleep. He even makes sure to text Mark every two hours just in case.

“How does this even work anyways?” Mark asks dubiously. He thinks of that creepy, glazed-over look in Lee Minho’s eyes on television and how he couldn’t remember anything. That did not look normal. Not at all. “You can’t really drag them in kicking and screaming, can you?”

“I’m not that barbaric, Mark Lee. I lure them in with my voice.” Haechan leans in slightly, a proud smile on his face. “I’m just that good at singing.”

Mark’s brain unhelpfully supplies an image of Haechan as Ariel from The Little Mermaid, singing on top of a rock in the middle of the ocean. Either it shows on his face or Haechan is just that good at guessing as well, because the other boy scowls and kicks a transparent foot in his direction. 

“Like a siren, dumbass.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “So you just  _ have _ to drag people into the woods? It’s creepy just thinking about it.”

He doesn’t forget the warning one of their neighbors gave about the woods being haunted. Now that he has an idea of what’s been going on, he isn’t sure if it’s considered haunted because of  _ Haechan _ , or if there’s something else. The woods are way too close to the cottage for his comfort.

“Well, no. It’s the curse,” Haechan explains, wringing his hands in his lap. “I’m kind of tied to the music box. Leaving for too long or traveling too far makes me lose my energy, so I like to have them come to me. When I don’t have any energy, I turn transparent. Got it?”

“Oh dude, you’re kind of like Genie from Aladdin,” Mark breathes out.

Haechan chuckles, though there isn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, that really sucks. How long have you been… cursed?”

“A little over a year, I think. Speaking of Aladdin...” Haechan looks at him curiously, resting his chin in his hands. There’s a glint in his eye that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, you can help me out! We’ll walk around town every night and I’ll steal some magic from people there. That way, I don’t have to lure anyone into the woods.”

“Wait, you’re stuck to the music box,” Mark blinks, “so you want me to carry that thing around with me?”

“Duh. It’s not that heavy and won’t take long.” Haechan adds, “I’ll be your mini tour guide. Deal?”

It honestly doesn’t sound too bad at all. Johnny had been worried about leaving Mark alone in the cottage for the whole summer. Going to explore the town every day would give him something better to do than loitering around indoors for the next three months. He might even find the places his mom used to visit.

But he’s still hesitating. 

“I’ll give you until Friday to think about it,” Haechan says after he takes too long to answer. “I have to go anyway. This is taking way too much energy.”

Mark grimaces as he wiggles his barely visible fingers at him. “You won’t kidnap anyone else till then, right?”

Haechan shrugs and shoots him an impish smile. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t  _ borrow _ someone. See ya on Friday.”

With that, he turns on his heel and vanishes into thin air. Mark drops the rest of his sandwich on his foot. 

☾

Min Hyemi disappears on a Tuesday. She is found on Wednesday morning unharmed, but disoriented. Like Lee Minho, she doesn’t remember how she got there.

Unlike Lee Minho, she remembers the sound of an angel singing a lullaby.

_ Well that’s obviously Haechan _ , Mark thinks as he steps out of the library on Thursday, phone pressed to his ear as he listens to Yukhei talk about the puppy he recently adopted with his brother. His fingers tap against his shorts, lingering where his wallet sits in his pocket.  _ What have I gotten into, Mom? _

The library trip is a complete bust. Mark skimmed through eight books but he didn’t find anything remotely useful. Just some basic information on witchcraft that he can’t distinguish between fact or fiction, plus some insight on the historical events that occurred in Jaegu since it was first established. 

Nothing about a cursed boy bound to a music box.

“ _ …is everything okay? I don’t think you’ve been listening to me, bro. _ ” Yukhei doesn’t sound upset, just merely stating a fact. “ _ Which is a shame because Bella is absolutely adorable. _ ”

Mark chuckles apologetically as he turns the corner and starts walking towards the beach. “Sorry, man. There’s been a lot on my mind lately.”

“ _ No worries! Wanna talk about it? ‘S cool if you don’t want to, but just throwing it out there. _ ” 

_ Does he want to talk about it? _ Mark pushes his bangs from his forehead as he reaches the sandy beach. How does one even begin to explain what is happening? He can’t just say that there is a boy claiming to be a witch, who wants to make a deal with him. Even if Yukhei has always been understanding, how can he bring this up?

He sucks in a breath and sits down in the shade of an umbrella someone left in the sand. “Hey, this might sound crazy, but do you believe that magic exists?”

There is a brief pause that makes him nervous. Yukhei makes a confused noise. “ _ The magic like the magicians perform on tv, or are you talking about actual magic? _ ”

“Actual magic,” Mark says a little too fast, “like witches, spells, and curses.”

“ _ Eh, it’s possible, isn’t it? _ ” Yukhei answers easily, as if he is talking about the weather. “ _ You know that time we tried to summon a demon when we were drunk? I still think that it would’ve worked somehow. I feel it in my bones, man. Anything is possible. _ ”

He finds himself cracking a grin as he rests his arms on his knees. “Really? I was scared I was going to sound crazy.”

“ _ Nah. Besides, Renjun believes in aliens. If those can be real, why can’t other magical things exist too? _ ”

Mark honestly feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders after hearing Yukhei’s words. Maybe all he needed after all was someone else’s opinion on the matter. “Thanks, Yukhei.”

“ _ No need to thank me, man. Hey, when you come back, let’s try the ritual again! _ ”

“Will do.” Mark hangs up after saying his goodbyes, sighing as he looks out at the ocean. 

There are children playing in the calm water, their laughs bright and infectious. Mark feels a tiny spark of jealousy bubbling up in his stomach as he watches their parents playfully splash water at them. He chews on his lower lip and stands up, brushing sand from his shorts as he turns to walk back home. 

Tomorrow, he will have an answer for Haechan.

☾

Mark casually tells Johnny he will be hanging out with a friend he made at the market during breakfast Friday morning. His cousin promptly drops his fork midbite. 

“Who is it?” Johnny asks curiously as he wipes the fallen egg off of the floor. “Don’t give me that look, Mark. I’m glad you’re not going to be a couch potato for three months, but I’m worried.”

The thought of missing children lingers heavily in the air, unsaid. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Mark replies before sticking another sausage in his mouth to avoid answering his question. “I’ll be back before dinner. Besides, the markets are usually lively even past midnight. There will be a lot of people there.”

Johnny looks at him suspiciously for a moment but shrugs. “Okay, I trust you. But,” he wags a finger in his direction, “if anything,  _ anything _ , happens, call me. I’ll come running right away to get you.”

“I will,” he promises as he finishes the rest of his breakfast. 

The two of them clean the dishes together before Johnny stumbles out of the cottage for work. Mark heads upstairs to his room, pulling the office chair in front of the nightstand, where the music box sits. He stares at it for a moment before opening the lid, tapping the figurine’s head twice with his finger. “Haechan?”

There isn’t a response and for a moment, he feels a sense of deja vu.

_ Maybe it’s too early _ . Mark wheels backwards away from the nightstand and reaches for his laptop, hopping out of the chair to flop onto his bed. He shifts around until he finds a comfortable position and logs into his Netflix account. Mark goes straight to the movies section and idly flips through the titles until he lands on the newest Avengers movie. He shrugs and hugs a pillow to his chest before clicking on the play button.

All the heroes from the past movies are in this one, and he finds himself in awe at the graphics and the way each scene transitions. He’s so engrossed during the final scenes of the movie that he doesn’t notice the figure hovering behind him.

“Oh no, he dies?” Haechan comments, laughing maniacally when Mark lets out a scream. “Did I scare you, Markie?”

“Dude, you have to stop popping up like that,” Mark spits as he picks up his fallen laptop, heart pounding in his ears. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.”

Haechan looks much better than he did the last time he saw him, less pasty with more color filling his cheeks. He’s wearing a loose white dress shirt tucked into a pair of tight black jeans this time, a bit like the outfit the ballerina figurine is wearing. There is a little glitter on his eyelids and coral on his lips, and Mark finds it difficult to look away.

That is, until his eyes fall down. “Oh, you’re wearing shoes this time.”

Haechan snorts and sticks his leg out to show them off. “Yeah, these are my ballet shoes. Like ‘em?”

The material of the black shoes still look shiny despite being worn on the bottoms, like they have been cared for. Mark smiles when he notices the little suns embroidered on the ribbon wrapped around his ankles, how well they suit him. “Yeah.”

“I did these myself,” Haechan says proudly as he runs a finger along the pale yellow thread, pausing on one that seemed misshapen and messily done. He clears his throat and straightens. “Before this mess happened, I was going to receive a scholarship for ballet. I was finally going to go to Seoul, but... ”

Mark watches quietly as Haechan sniffs, unsure of how to comfort him. He reaches out to pat him on the shoulder, but stops halfway when he thinks about how it might go straight through him instead. 

“Can I see?” When Haechan’s wet eyes land on him, he coughs awkwardly, cheeks heating up as he babbles away in embarrassment. “I mean, only if you want to show me. You don’t  _ have  _ to—”

“You’re so awkward, Markie,” Haechan coos, laughing at the flabbergasted look on his face. He wipes his eyes and takes a few steps back, pointing one of his toes out in front of his body. Winking, he raises his arms above his head. “I’ll show you, since you asked so nicely.”

He closes his eyes briefly and begins humming a familiar melody, one Mark recognizes from the first night he saw him in his room. Haechan stretches his arms forward while one of his legs lifts up backwards, almost like he is reaching for something. He holds this position for a beat before his leg falls back down, and he bends both knees, one arm up and one arm out to the side.

The tune speeds up a tiny bit, and Mark is entranced by the way the other boy’s toes lift and lower, effortlessly guiding him across the room as he twists and turns. It’s almost as if he is a cloud. Haechan takes a couple of running steps before he  _ leaps _ gracefully in the air, and Mark swears that the air was knocked out from his lungs. He doesn’t know anything about ballet, but Haechan looks ridiculously graceful and elegant, like he was born to dance.

Haechan does a few more spins until he returns back to his starting position, melody slowly fading out before he opens his eyes and relaxes. A big grin appears on his face, cheeks flushed. “What did you think?”

“That was beautiful,” Mark breathes out after a beat of silence. “Haechan, you’re amazing.”

Haechan stares at him for a moment with wide eyes, lips slightly parted, before he recovers and gives him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

There is a slow warmth blooming in his chest that makes him feel breathless, almost giddy, at the sight of happiness radiating off of Haechan’s face. Mark clears his throat and looks down at his hands. Yep, that’s much safer. “Um… about your deal. I’ll help you out.”

“Really?” Haechan looks like he’s on the verge of vibrating from joy. It kind of reminds Mark of his old neighbor’s puppy back in Toronto. Like Jeno too, when he sees a cat on the street. “Oh thank god, I can finally see the rest of the town again.”

He sticks out his hand in Mark’s direction, absolutely glowing. Mark blinks at the transparent limb with apprehension. “I’m good.”

Haechan scowls at his see-through hands and skips towards the door. “Whatever. Come on, let’s go! I have so many things I want to show you.”

“Wait, a minute,” Mark calls after him, turning off his laptop. “Calm down, man. I need to get ready first.”

Haechan turns and scrutinizes his current outfit, arms resting on his hips. Mark suddenly feels a bit self-conscious in his ratty t-shirt from high school and plaid pajama pants, sputtering as he gestures towards the door before the other boy can say anything. “Go wait outside, geez.”

“Fine,” Haechan groans as he walks through the closed door like a ghost, “don’t forget to bring the music box.”

Mark sighs and goes to his closet to grab the nearest clean t-shirt, an oversized striped shirt, and changes into the denim shorts he wore the day before. He quickly slaps on sunscreen onto his face and sticks a baseball cap on before grabbing his backpack.  _ Water bottle, wallet, keys _ , he lists in his head as he throws them in. 

He pauses and grabs a thin windbreaker from his closet, carefully wrapping the music box with it before sticking it into his backpack.  _ Just in case _ , he thinks as he double checks everything. When he walks out of the room, Haechan is loitering at the top of the stairs, fingers tapping on the railing. 

Mark slings the backpack over his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go.”

Haechan perks up immediately, letting out a cheer as he hops down the stairs two steps at a time. “Jaegu market, here we come!”

Mark rolls his eyes fondly as Haechan skips out the front door, slipping on his shoes and making sure the door is properly locked before he follows the other boy across the lawn. 

“Come on, slowpoke!” Haechan yells at him as he runs across the lawn, hair sparkling under the afternoon sun. 

_ Here’s to hoping I don’t regret my decision _ .

☾

Mark finds that he has been regretting a lot of things lately. Bringing Haechan to the market just happens to be another one of those things.

“Haechan?” He hisses, phone pressed to his ear so that he doesn’t look like he’s talking to himself. The boy had disappeared from his sight as soon as they entered the town, and now he can’t find him anymore. He’s pretty sure it’s been over half an hour. “Haechan? Oh my god.”

Now he knows how Johnny felt that one time he was his chaperone for a field trip and he had run away to play with the other kids. He makes a mental note to apologize for all of his past shenanigans when he gets back to the cottage.

Mark carefully slips past the growing crowd towards the edge of the market, where he’ll probably have a better view of the area. “Come on, Mark. Look for someone with orange hair.”

It’s just his luck that there are at least five people with orange-colored hair in the crowd. He quickly skips over the two teenage girls in the center of the crowd and the little boy with red-orange hair. 

“Oh look, there’s another one. It’s an ugly shade of orange, though.”

He whips his head around so fast at the sound of Haechan’s voice he’s pretty sure he has whiplash. “Oh my god, where were you?”

“Getting some magic!” Haechan ignores his pointed glare and waves his fingers in his face, a lot less transparent than they were before. There’s a healthy glow to his skin, much more vibrant than it has ever been since they have met. If Mark wasn’t so close, he would’ve thought that he was any normal boy. “I feel a lot better honestly.”

Mark sighs. “You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

There is a beat of silence before Haechan answers distractedly, eyes on his feet. “Mhm, maybe.”

Well that’s not very reassuring. Before Mark can comment, Haechan pulls away from the wall he was leaning against and gestures for him to follow. “I promised a tour, didn’t I? Let’s go check out the food stalls today before you have to go back for dinner.”

They go to a section of the market filled with food stalls, despite Mark’s protest that it wouldn’t be fair since Haechan can’t eat anything. He just cheekily replies that once he’s back to normal, Mark can pay for all the food he wants to eat. (Seeing the way his eyes light up at the sight of food, Mark finds that he can’t say no anyways.)

Mark chews on a savory hotteok filled with shredded vegetables and octopus chunks while Haechan excitedly points out the stalls he used to visit as a kid. There’s spicy tteokbokki, bungeoppang filled with sweet red bean paste, fried skewered fish cakes, and buchimgae, which he recognizes from the food stalls he visited while in Seoul. They have a large variety of seafood options, always caught fresh earlier in the day, he says.

He remembers how his mom used to make homemade bungeoppang for him during special occasions and swallows thickly, quickly walking past the stall. If Haechan notices, he doesn’t say anything.

When they make it to the end of the food stalls, Haechan patiently waits for Mark while he buys two servings of patbingsu for him and Johnny. He thanks the woman running the stall and carefully sticks the containers into his backpack.

Haechan looks up from where he’s kicking at a patch of grass. “Ready to head back?”

“Yeah,” Mark replies as he adjusts his baseball cap, speaking softly so that only he can hear him. “Did you get enough magic today? We weren’t out that long.”

“Mhm, it’s enough for now.”

As he follows a quiet Haechan back to the cottage, Mark wonders what it is that the other boy isn’t telling him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas~

Ever since Friday, Mark finds himself being dragged out to explore the rest of the town for hours at a time. Haechan takes him to the schools he went to as a kid, the playground by the beach, some famous statues of mermaids and animals, and popular shopping locations for tourists. His phone is filled with pictures that Haechan wanted him to take and his wallet is significantly lighter after he purchased souvenirs for his friends back in Seoul.

Mark hasn’t seen Haechan actually taking any magic from someone in person, but he assumes it must have happened at some point they were out. The other boy looks a lot more lively and energetic now ― he even has the energy to play pranks on him every other minute. If he were to ever pass him on the street, he would definitely look like a normal boy.

Today is finally Wednesday, aka Johnny’s first day off since they got here. 

Mark is currently in the kitchen, stirring a bowl full of brownie mix while he watches Johnny run around the kitchen looking for a pack of oreos. They’re making those famous triple decker brownies they saw on the internet ― cookie dough, oreos, and brownies in one. It smells like chocolate and pure sugar in the kitchen. If he gets diabetes or something from eating them, he’s definitely blaming it on Johnny. 

“Okay, so we put the cookie dough first,” Johnny says as he squints at the small text on his phone, “then the oreos, followed by the brownie mix.”

Mark helps him fill their rectangular pan before they finally stick it in the oven, snacking on the leftover oreos while they wait. Johnny dozes off a couple of times, and Mark laughs at the flour and sugar that sticks to his cheek where it was pressed against the countertop. This starts a tiny impromptu food fight that both of them end up regretting because it’s a pain in the ass to clean. 

“I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while,” Johnny breathes as he throws an arm around his shoulder. Mark lets out a whine as his cousin throws all his weight on him. “This past week has been insane.”

“Yeah, your client had you running around everywhere,” Mark snorts.

Johnny lets out a wail. “Don’t remind me! I haven’t been able to spend any time with my favorite cousin at all!”

“I’m like the only cousin you have close to your age.”

The timer goes off and Mark slips out from under Johnny’s arm to pull the pan out of the oven. He sticks it onto the cooling rack and tosses the oven mitt onto the table before sliding back into his previous position. Johnny mutters something about his bony elbow and shoulder, but welcomes him back into his space.

“I noticed you’ve been going out everyday since Friday,” Johnny brings up as he playfully wiggles his eyebrows at him. “What’s his name again… Haechan, right?”

Mark shoves his face away. “Yeah, he’s been taking me to see all the tourist locations and his favorite spots around town. We’re going to the arcade today.”

“Ah, to be young and free,” Johnny says wistfully. “Wish I could tag along.”

“We can go later today,” he suggests, yelping when Johnny suddenly stands up.

“I just wanna stay home and laze around today though,” Johnny complains, grabbing a knife to cut the triple decker brownies. “Let’s eat this sugar monstrosity and you can tell me about this Haechan boy.”

Mark snorts and settles into one of the chairs ― Johnny has done this with every friend he made in the past. It’s his way of checking in on him. How does he even begin to describe Haechan? He is someone who is larger than life, bright like the sun itself. Playful and likes to tease, but kind and considerate. Someone who has gone through a lot and is keeping it to himself, so that he won’t burden others.

“Haechan is… a bit strange.”

The knife stops halfway through the brownie and Johnny raises an eyebrow, his signature  _ should I be worried _ look. Mark quickly shakes his head. “Not in a bad way. Kinda like I’ve known him for a really long time. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Johnny confirms as he hands him a napkin with a brownie square. “That was how it felt when I met Jaehyun in college, remember? Now we’re best friends.”

“You guys were more like long lost brothers, haha.” Mark nibbles on the edge of the brownie, the sticky sweetness of chocolate melting and coating his tongue. “I don’t know, it just feels really comfortable with Haechan. Like we just clicked. That’s it.”

_ It just feels right, as simple as that.  _

Johnny coos at him. “Aww, that’s adorable. Too bad you’re going to meet him at the arcade. I would love to meet him soon.”

Mark laughs nervously. “I’m sure you guys would get along well.”

He knows for a fact that they will get along just fine. Johnny offers another brownie with a soft smile on his face, turning to get a container to pack the rest of them away. Once they finish cleaning up, Mark heads back to his room to continue working on the song he started before summer break while Johnny stresses out on his laptop downstairs. 

An hour later, the doorbell rings and Mark feels a wave of goosebumps on his skin.

“I’ll get it!” Johnny calls from the kitchen. 

Mark shrugs and continues messing with his guitar, playing a few chords that he fiddles with a song he has been working on. The rap section was completed a couple of weeks ago, but the song sounds incomplete. (No offense to Renjun’s vocals, but something is still missing.) He scribbles some notes down into his notebook as he hums out a potential melody, fingers tapping away on his guitar. Mark finds himself wondering what Haechan’s voice would sound like harmonizing with Renjun.

He can hear Johnny talking to the person at the door, his booming laugh audible even though the door to his room is closed. Mark continues writing, until he hears the person respond with a familiar bright giggle. His pen makes a dark line on the page from one end to the other.

Wait a minute, he knows that voice. 

Mark stumbles out of his room and peers down the stairs, where he sees Johnny chatting with Haechan at the door.  _ Haechan _ , who has been practically invisible like a ghost for the last two weeks. He’s pretty sure the last time he saw him, he was still able to pass through walls and everything. 

Johnny turns and spots him at the top of the stairs, looking way too amused. Mark realizes that he must look pretty dumbfounded, with a deer-in-headlights look and open mouth. 

“Hey, Markie!” Haechan calls out to him, a teasing smile on his face as he waves. Johnny mouths “Markie” under his breath, a bewildered expression on his face.

Mark plasters a fake smile on his face, hopefully convincing enough to hide his internal struggle. “Haechan.”

“And I’m Johnny,” his cousin snorts, gesturing to the living room. “It was nice meeting you, Haechan, but I unfortunately have some work to get done. You guys have fun, okay?”

“We can go to my room first,” Mark squeaks. Haechan beams at him from the bottom of the stairs. Infuriating.

Johnny gives him a knowing look that he ignores as he slips back into his room with Haechan in tow. Mark closes the door and waits until he hears the telltale sign of the tv being turned on before whirling around to look at Haechan. The other boy briefly looks at the music box with an unreadable expression before he looks expectantly at Mark.

“What’s going on? I thought we were meeting there in another two hours?” Mark hisses after he finishes processing, absolutely baffled. “How come Johnny can see you too?”

“Surprise?” Haechan says cheerfully, two fingers stuck up by his face in a peace sign. “I’ve been saving up magic so that I can finally appear in person!”

Mark gasps when Haechan suddenly shoots forward and cups his face, eyes sparkling as his fingers dig painlessly into his cheeks. His fingers are warm and solid and  _ real _ . “See?”

“Whoa,” is all he manages to whisper. He fights back the urge to grab his fingers again when Haechan pulls away, already missing the warmth. “Is this permanent?”

“I wish. It only becomes permanent if I break the curse,” Haechan mutters as he sits down on his bed, pulling up his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. “I still need energy, like sleep and food…”

At the expectant look on his face, Mark chuckles. “Yeah, I did promise to buy you food, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Haechan says, popping the ‘p’ as he leans back on his arms into the blanket. “I expect at least a three course meal with dessert.”

Mark sighs and internally mourns the contents of his wallet once again. Good thing he worked more hours than usual at the tutoring center and library before coming on the trip. “We have some brownies that we baked this morning. You can have those first.”

Haechan perks up and slides off the bed, heading towards the door. Mark rolls his eyes and follows him. “Let’s go!”

When they make it downstairs, Johnny is sitting in front of the tv, face pale. Mark makes a noise of question under his breath and goes to sit down next to him on the couch, Haechan following silently.

“ _ We have just received news from the police station that Kim Juyeon, aged 5, and Shin Yuna, aged 7, have both been declared missing _ …”

With a sharp inhale, Mark glances at Haechan briefly from the corner of his eyes. However, the other boy looks just as disturbed as he is, brows furrowed in confusion. He reaches out to touch the back of Haechan’s hand with his index finger when Johnny isn’t paying attention, tracing out a message for him.

_ Was it you? _

Haechan’s eye twitches as he reaches out to write back, fingers burning against his skin.

_ No. _

☾

They don’t go to the arcade that afternoon, staying indoors quietly watching reruns of old tv shows on Netflix with takeout instead while Johnny absent-mindedly edits photos in the corner of the room. While Haechan laughs when something funny comes up and sniffles at the sad parts, Mark can tell that his mind is distracted.

He leaves after a couple of hours, something about going home before it gets dark. Johnny offers him a ride and watches him walk down the path towards the markets when he declines, until he fades out of sight like mist and Mark has to drag his cousin back inside. 

That night, Mark finds himself unable to sleep again, mind stuck on the news.

Since he arrived in Jaegu, there were five children who went missing: Lee Minho, Kang Chaewon, Min Hyemi, Kim Juyeon, and Shin Yuna. Minho and Hyemi were the only ones who were found so far. He knows for sure that Haechan was responsible for Minho and Hyemi, but what about the others? It’s far too many occurrences for it to be as simple as kidnapping.

He thinks about what Haechan told him the other day, about other witches living in the town. The one he fought in particular practiced dark magic. Although Haechan didn’t specify what that meant, Mark has seen enough movies with magic and witchcraft involved to know that it meant something dangerous and sinister.

_ Mark. _

He blinks and sits up at the faint sound of a woman’s voice, brows furrowed as he slips out of bed. He can hear the floor by the top of the stairs creak. “Johnny?”

When he opens the door to his bedroom, Johnny’s bedroom door is closed. There isn’t anyone there, but Mark feels goosebumps rise on his skin. He shivers as he rubs at his arms, squinting into the dark hallway. “Haechan?”

When there isn’t a response, he takes a few hesitant steps towards the top of the stairs, peering over the banister down at the living room area. If this was a horror movie, something would definitely jump out and grab him right now. Mark takes a few breaths to prepare himself before heading down halfway and glancing around, sticking to the wall just in case he needed to run.

There, outside the window under the moonlight, is a woman wearing a white dress. Her long black hair is pulled back in a loose braid and there is a gold wedding band on her finger. She turns her head slightly in his direction, facial features barely visible where he stands.

Mark recognizes her instantly ― after all, he has seen the photo in his wallet too many times to count.

“Mom?” He whispers tentatively, watching as the hem of her flowy dress disappears out of his sight.

As if his body is moving on its own, he stumbles down the rest of the stairs and towards the window, craning his head to see if the woman is still there. He sees her stepping down the driveway, lingering by the flowers blooming next to the mailbox for a moment. Mark wants to call out for her again, but his voice remains trapped in his throat.

_ Mark, my baby. _

He inhales sharply as he hears her voice again, cautiously opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch. Mark takes a shuddery breath. “M-mom? Are you really here?”

_ I missed you so much. _

Mark’s vision begins to blur and refocus, until all he can see is her white dress, glowing under the moonlight. His mind goes blank and as if in a trance, he begins to walk, and walk, and walk. 

_ Come to me, will you? _

Mark follows the voice, away from the cottage and past the beach. He doesn’t feel the sharp pebbles poking into the soles of his feet nor the blades of grass that brush against his pajamas, only focusing on the ghostly white figure heading towards the trees and the voice that he barely remembers from his childhood. The sound of the ocean waves rush in his ears, until the entire world sounds muffled and far away. Like he is in a bubble. 

All he can see is the image of his  _ mom _ .

She waves him over from the shadows of the trees before wandering deeper into the woods, out of sight. Mark mindlessly begins to maneuver over fallen tree branches and overgrown roots.

_ Remember, the woods are not safe _ .

The woods are not safe. 

Before he can follow her past the trees, someone grabs Mark’s upper arm and yanks him back. The fog in his mind instantly clears, the trance he found himself in broken as the muffled sound in his ears evaporates into nothing. He blinks in confusion as he stares at his surroundings, wincing when his eyes fall on the blinding headlights of a car.

“Whoa there!” A lanky young man with ocean blue hair and sharp features peers worriedly into his face, grip on his arm relaxing once he gets Mark’s attention. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night? Haven’t you heard that it’s dangerous here?”

“Huh?” Mark feels panic bubbling in his chest as he looks down and notices his dirty pajamas and bare feet, at the shadows and trees looming above and around them. He doesn’t know how he got here, doesn’t remember anything besides the sound of his mom’s voice and a vision of a white dress. “What’s going on…?” 

“Are you okay?” He gasps when Mark’s knees suddenly give up, quickly grabbing him by the arms to support him. “Oh my god. Okay, let’s go to my place first. You’re freezing and barefoot.”

Mark finds himself being gently herded towards a slightly beat-up silver minivan and before he knows it, they’re driving off away from the woods. Away from the ghost in white that he can’t help but chase.

☾

His name is Lee Taeyong, and he lives five cottages down from the one they rented for the summer. He’s also the one who went and cleaned it up for them previously, TY.

Mark shivers as he pulls the blanket Taeyong gave to him closer to his body, staring at a random spot on the wall while the older man prepares a mug of tea, phone pressed to his ear. He wonders what Johnny will think when he sees him, if he will think that it was a mistake bringing him here. He hopes not, because he honestly doesn’t want to go back to Seoul just yet.

“Johnny says he will be here soon,” Taeyong says kindly as he hands him a mug, sitting down on the couch next to him. Mark quietly thanks him and wraps both his hands around it, feeling the warmth seep into his frozen skin. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

“Kind of,” he whispers, “still confused. Thank you for helping me.”

“No problem. You must have been lured out by dark magic,” Taeyong offers, brows furrowed as he leans slightly closer. “It’s still lingering on you.”

Mark promptly drops his mug, choking on a mouthful of hot tea as it stops in midair right before it hits the ground. Taeyong blinks at him with owlish eyes, mouth slightly parted in confusion. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You’re a witch too?” Mark finally manages to rasp out, rubbing his throat with a wince. “Like Haechan?”

“Ah, Hyuc— Haechan,” Taeyong sighs, relaxing back into his seat. “Yeah, I’m a witch. Third generation! My specialty is spells and potions.”

“Oh my god,” Mark breathes out after a beat of silence. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot of us,” Taeyong says with a little laugh. “A lot of the elders in Jaegu are retired witches. You met some of them before. Old man Lee by the beach and Kim Hyerin-ssi at the market. She said that she probably scared you away though.”

The man who told them to rest while the house was being fixed, and the woman who rented the cottage to them. Mark gasps as he realizes that Kim Hyerin must have been the old woman at the market who said that she knew him, the one who told him to come for guidance or something. He feels his face heat up from embarrassment, hiding it by taking an awkward sip of tea.

Taeyong takes his silence as a cue to continue talking, telling him about how he came back to his hometown for the summer from Seoul (like him). How he knows Haechan, but the younger witch hasn’t come to visit in a long time. If he knows about Haechan’s curse, he doesn’t mention it at all. Mark doesn’t know if he trusts him enough at the moment to bring it up either.

Mark frowns as he thinks about what Taeyong had just told him. “Wait a minute. You said there is dark magic lingering on me?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, wrinkling his nose. “It’s really faint, but there’s this weird smell. Kind of like decayed magic. Maybe Haechan has mentioned it before?” 

_ Decayed magic? _ Even if Haechan did mention it at one point, Mark honestly doesn’t remember. He’s pretty sure his face pales at the thought because Taeyong quickly shakes his head, hands waving in the air.

“Not a bad thing really,” Taeyong quickly adds. He whispers something under his breath and snaps his fingers. Immediately, Mark feels like his body is a lot lighter than before, a lot warmer. “There, got rid of it for you. I’m more worried about the fact that someone’s using dark magic.”

Mark wonders if Taeyong knows about Haechan’s current situation. “Do you—”

A loud knock on the door interrupts him. Taeyong blinks and smiles warily. “Sorry, that must be your cousin.”

As he goes to open the door, Mark puts the mug onto the coffee table and sinks further into the couch cushions. He hears them make some small talk in the doorway, Taeyong’s voice soothing and quiet in comparison to Johnny’s harsh breaths and panicked whispers.  _ He must have freaked out. _

“Mark!” Johnny rushes into the living room with Taeyong on his heels, quickly enveloping him in a bone crushing hug. “Oh my god, you’re okay. I’m such a terrible—”

“It’s not your fault,” Mark blurts out before Johnny can apologize, voice muffled where his mouth is squashed against Johnny’s shoulder. “Apparently, I was just sleepwalking.”

Taeyong makes eye contact with him over Johnny’s shoulder and nods, playing along. “Mhm, I saw Mark from the window and took him inside right away.”

“Sleepwalking?” Johnny asks dubiously, finally detaching himself as he turns to the other man, cheeks slightly pink. “Thank you so much for finding Mark. I really can’t thank you enough, Taeyong-ssi.”

“You’re welcome,” Taeyong says bashfully, fiddling with his fingers as he stands a good distance from them. “Just Taeyong is fine.”

“It’s getting late,” Mark voices after he sees the two of them just stare at each other a tad too long. Interesting. “We should go back and let you get some sleep.”

He definitely needs the rest, feeling like he went through hell and back. After exchanging some final words with Taeyong, Johnny heads outside to grab the extra blanket they keep in their car. Mark doesn’t miss the flustered expression on Taeyong’s face and a hint of pink on Johnny’s cheeks. He’s tempted to say something about it to tease them, but decides to just keep it to himself for now.

“We can talk more about this later,” Taeyong whispers to him as he heads outside, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “If you need anything, let me know?”

“I’ll remember that,” Mark replies with a bow of his head before he heads off to the car. “Thank you for everything.”

He climbs into the passenger seat and waves at Taeyong, curling in on himself as Johnny drives back to the cottage. His cousin doesn’t say anything, which makes him a bit nervous. It doesn’t take too long before they pull up into the driveway of the cottage. Mark nearly jumps out of his seat when Johnny suddenly groans and presses his forehead against the steering wheel.

“Mark,” he says quietly, barely audible over the sound of the crickets outside. “Will you tell me what really happened?”

He wants to lie again and say that he really was sleepwalking, but at the stern look on Johnny’s face, he finds that he can’t really bring himself to do it. Mark looks down at his fingers resting in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs. “I think I had a dream about my mom.”

Johnny inhales sharply. “Aunt Nara?”

“I thought I saw her,” Mark laughs drily as he blinks back his tears, leaning back into his seat. The reality of the situation hits him now, washing over him like a violent tidal wave. Johnny makes a noise and takes his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This is her hometown, you know? I thought that if I came here, I could finally have some closure. Is it wrong of me to have a little hope that I’ll be able to see her again one day?”

He still remembers the exact moment that the police showed up to the apartment to tell him that they had no choice but to suspend their search, that his mom left no traces to follow when she vanished. How his father moved on pretty quickly, almost like he was relieved and how their relatives on her side never mentioned her since then.

“It’s okay to have some hope,” Johnny says slowly, which prompts Mark to look up so fast his head spins. His cousin smiles sadly as he reaches over to lightly ruffle his hair. “But sometimes I wish that you wouldn’t let it consume you,” he continues, voice a little strained. “I wish that you could let it go in the future. You’re surrounded by people who care about you. We worry about you, Mark.”

Mark lets his words sink in a bit, feeling guilt and frustration bubbling in his chest. “I know. I wish I knew how to let go.”

“Do you still want to stay here, Mark? If this is too much for you—”

“I want to stay,” he interrupts, fingers clenching onto the fabric of his t-shirt. There’s still plenty of things he has to get done, breaking Haechan’s curse being one of them. “Please don’t send me back.” 

Johnny’s face crumples. “I just don't know what I would do if something were to happen to you again.”

“I’ll be fine,” Mark says quietly as he turns to open the car door. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Mark—,” Johnny calls after him, quickly catching himself before he says anything else. He sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Let’s rest and talk about this tomorrow, okay?  _ We’ll _ figure it out together.”

Mark gives him a relieved nod before they enter the cottage, heading immediately towards his room. As much as he feels guilty for keeping Johnny in the dark, he feels like he needs more time to process everything. He finds that he always needs more time. He cleans up before climbing into bed, pulling his blanket over his face and letting out a shuddering sigh. 

Johnny paces back and forth downstairs, probably on a phone call with someone. Shortly after he hears Johnny come upstairs and enter the master bedroom, the floorboards by the door creak. He knows by the faint scent of rosewater that Haechan is there.

“Mark?” Haechan’s voice sounds wobbly, like he is on the verge of tears. Mark pulls down the blanket until he can see the other boy’s face, his brows furrowed in worry. “Oh, Mark, you’re okay. Where have you been?”

Despite the fact that he usually shys away from skinship, he finds himself reaching out for Haechan, who silently climbs into the bed and wraps his arms around him. Mark buries his face into the other boy’s shoulder until he manages to calm down more. “Haechan, I saw my mom.”

Haechan stiffens and pulls away, eyes searching his face. “You saw your mom?”

Mark nods, a tad bit confused by the intense look on Haechan’s face. “Yeah, but it was probably just a hallucination or something.”

Haechan looks like he is going to be sick, face devoid of any color. When he finally speaks again, his voice is small. “Okay. I need to go check on something real quick.”

“Wait.” When he moves to leave, Mark finds himself panicking, quickly reaching out to grab the hem of the other boy’s shirt. He hears his heart beat in his ears as Haechan gives him a questioning look, swallowing the knot in his throat. “Don’t leave me.”

He can’t help but think of lingering dark magic and haunted woods, of things that he can’t explain and ghosts that he can’t help but chase. It scares him to see how his life is vastly different ever since he stepped foot in Jaegu, where old people live in an even older town.

Haechan wordlessly slides his hand into his, gently squeezing his fingers. His eyes glitter in the dark like starlight. “I won’t.”

Mark believes him. 

He hears the other boy humming a soft lullaby under his breath while he runs his fingers comfortingly through his hair. It’s a familiar tune, but he can’t seem to place where he’d heard it from. Mark focuses instead on the way their fingers stay entangled, like an anchor keeping him from drifting off to sea, before falling into a tired, dreamless sleep.

☾

How strange it is, that one has sealed magic while the other has magic that is not his.

Taeyong presses his palms against his forehead and sighs, wondering if the protection spell he secretly cast on Mark would hold up for the next few days. He pours the cold tea into the sink and cleans the mug before heading back to the couch, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders again as he takes a seat. The book he was going to finish sits on the coffee table, but he doesn’t feel like reading the ending just yet.

He glances at the little hedgehog plushie on the shelf of his bookcase and pouts. “I miss you, Doie. I could really use a little guidance right now.”

Missing children, unsettled magic. Something hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike. He feels like he should have just stayed in Seoul for the summer, but it’s too late to change his mind now. Taeyong groans and buries his face into his blanket. 

He feels the energy long before he sees the other witch, a familiar scent of rosewater magic that calms his nerves. “Hey, _ Haechan _ . You haven’t come back in a long time.”

“Hyung.” The young witch walks out of the shadows, eyes red and puffy. Taeyong makes a noise of sympathy and opens his arms, accepting him into a tight hug, relieved when he finds that he can actually touch him now. “I think she’s back for Mark. Nara’s back.”

His blood runs cold at the mention of the witch who started everything. “Don’t tell me you confronted her again on your own?”

“Of course not. I didn’t see her, but I can feel it.”

Taeyong knows ― he feels it every time he steps foot in the woods, how some of the trees are slowly dying from exposure to malignant magic. It burns faintly near the heart of the woods, a place he can’t go to on his own from fear of his own magic being contaminated. Something is there, festering. 

“We can’t go in alone,” he says carefully. “You’re not whole at the moment and I’m not suited for offensive magic.”

If there is one thing that he knows for sure, it’s that Seo Nara would do  _ anything _ to get what she wants. And if she truly is back for Mark, then it would be foolish of them to assume that she is as powerless as she was when the elder witches of the town cast her out years ago.

“You need to let them know.”

Haechan takes a ragged breath and Taeyong winces at the wetness of his tears soaking into his shirt. His knuckles are white as his fingers remain fisted into his shirt, as if he’s holding on for dear life. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything until I was ready.”

That was before Mark Lee came back, before he got involved in this mess again. 

“You have to tell them everything,” Taeyong insists. “Please. We can stop it this time before anything happens…”

_ Lee Donghyuck. _

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, I keep forgetting to post ;v;

Your brother’s magic is volatile, she tells him. 

Unpredictable like the ocean waves, vulnerable and easily affected, yet powerful. It rests under his skin in light slumber, waiting, ready to lash out when provoked. A young boy like him shouldn’t have this much magic left unchecked. 

_ I’ll be taking him as an apprentice, so he will get better. He won’t be sick anymore, dear. _

Perhaps that was where everything went wrong.

☾

Donghyuck runs down the stairs as fast as his little legs can carry him, nearly stumbling onto his face as he skips multiple steps at a time. He clutches the little pot to his chest, careful not to jostle it around too much. 

“Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung!”

His older brother slips off his shoes at the doorway, eyes widening when he sees him dash forward. He catches him in his arms, thrown back into the door with a quiet groan. “Careful, Hyuckie!”

“Look!” He sticks the pot into his face, nearly vibrating with excitement. “I managed to turn it pink!”

Doyoung squints at the small budding sunflower shoved in his face, usual yellow petals a soft peach color. Donghyuck squeals in excitement when he is lifted in the air and spun around like a helicopter blade. “Congrats! You finally managed to complete your first spell.”

Donghyuck puffs out his chest proudly once he is placed back on the floor. “And I’m only eight years old. You were ten when you did your first spell.”

He ducks just in time to avoid Doyoung’s swipe at him, laughing as he runs into the kitchen. There is a plate of messy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he made earlier for the two of them on the table. Donghyuck carefully places the pot next to it before heading to the refrigerator for his juice box. 

“I wanna show Mark,” Donghyuck says as he takes a sip of juice. “Do you think he’d like it?”

“Eat first,” Doyoung replies as he hands him a sandwich, “you can stop by later. I’m sure he’ll be proud of you.”

Once they finish their meager lunch, he practically climbs into Doyoung’s lap, eliciting a half-hearted protest from him about his sticky fingers. Of course, his brother can never say no to him once he flashes puppy eyes in his direction. “Tell me about your lesson today.”

He ignores the concerning dark circles under his brother’s eyes, the way his skin is slightly cold to the touch. Ignores how he can almost feel his ribs through his thin hoodie. Remembers his grandma’s words about how he shouldn’t bring something like this up because Doyoung is getting  _ better _ now.

Donghyuck swallows down his worries and listens to his brother talk about the new spells he was taught, how Taeyong showed up halfway and nearly went bald when his spell backfired. He focuses on his soothing voice and the hand that gently cards through his hair, pressing his face into his chest so that he can hear his heartbeat. It sounds a lot healthier than last time.

He nearly falls asleep when Doyoung suddenly chuckles. “Hyuck, were you even listening to me?”

“I was,” he mumbles, cheek still pressed into his hoodie. “You were in the middle of telling me about Taeyong’s hair turning green.”

Doyoung snorts. “It turned blue. I can tell you’re getting sleepy. Why don’t we make a blanket fort and take a quick nap before Grandma comes home?”

For once, he thinks his brother has a good idea. “Okay, race you to the living room!”

“Hey, you cheated!”

The fort ends up collapsing because they fight over which pillows to use, but it doesn’t matter. Donghyuck thinks he likes this best, when Doyoung is just his older brother and the two of them can pretend that they are normal for a day. 

When Doyoung isn’t the apprentice to Jaegu’s most prominent witch and Donghyuck isn’t the little brother forced to chase his footsteps.

☾

At nine, his best friend moves away to Toronto.

Toronto is in  _ Canada _ , which is across the ocean and a whopping fourteen hour plane ride away. (Or at least that’s what Doyoung tells him.) 

That doesn’t make him feel any better. 

Donghyuck spends the next few days after Mark leaves buried under a mountain of blankets and used tissues, until his brother threatens to throw him out the window if he wails anymore at midnight. He feels like it is a bit unfair since Doyoung still has Taeyong and all he has is a pixelated version of his best friend, but it works out in the end when he meets the new kid, Jaemin. He still misses Mark, but he’s not really alone anymore.

At twelve, Mark comes back into his life and Donghyuck sees the witch again.

Seo Nara is exactly the same as he remembered from his fuzzy memories ― a beautiful woman who radiates warmth and kindness like sunlight. She lets him and Taeyong sit in with some of Doyoung’s lessons and gives him advice on how to improve his magic. He feels like he might surpass his brother one day at the rate he’s learning, but he keeps that to himself.

At sixteen, Donghyuck gets tired of waiting and asks Mark to be his boyfriend.

Doyoung and Taeyong are in Seoul for college and therefore are no help, so he decides to take matters into his own hands. Mark avoids him for a week before finally saying yes. Maybe it was because he was afraid it would ruin their friendship like he was. But as soon as Donghyuck holds his hand in his after they get together, everything just feels right. 

And finally at eighteen, his world shifts once more.

☾

Something is wrong.

Donghyuck feels it pressing against his lungs when he opens the trunk, a light pressure that feels  _ dangerous _ . He runs his fingers against the cool spines of the books, quickly pulling away when his magic recoils from the touch. His brow furrows as he holds his tingling hands to his chest. “What the?”

In all his years of learning and practicing magic, he has never felt anything like this. 

He mutters a quick protection spell for his hands before grabbing the closest book to him, blowing the dust from the cover. It thrums with energy, rolling off in heavy waves that makes him a little nauseous, clashing with the spell he cast. As he opens the book to a bookmarked page and scans it, realization hits him.

Magic transfer. Dark spells.  _ Forbidden _ magic.

No, they grew up learning from her. She has always been so bright and warm, almost like a mother to them. There is no way she could be practicing dark magic, right? Donghyuck quickly takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures of the spells before sticking the book back where he found it.

“Hyuck?”

He whirls around and winces when the trunk slams shut behind him, heart beating heavily in his ears when he sees his boyfriend standing in the doorway. His throat is dry and there is a slight tremble to his fingers, something akin to fear. “Mark.”

Mark gazes at him in confusion, eyes darting from his awkward position on the ground to the trunk behind him. “I thought my mom said this place was off-limits. What are you doing here?”

“Doyoung called me earlier,” he lies easily, “said he forgot something and needs it as soon as possible.”

That seems to pacify Mark’s curiosity for now, though his boyfriend had always been too trusting of him. “Oh right, he and Taeyong-hyung are graduating this year. They plan on staying in Seoul, right?”

“Mhm. What are  _ you _ doing here, Mark?”

He looks a bit sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Mom told me to get you. She needs your help fulfilling the potion orders for a big client. Lots of health and anti-aging potions.” There’s a wistful look on his face as he quietly adds, “Since you know I can’t really help.”

Donghyuck winces.

It is no secret that Mark Lee has no inherent magic of his own, despite being a descendant of one of the most powerful witch families in Korea. When they were younger, Donghyuck had thought he was just a late bloomer, someone whose magic would manifest when he grew up more. Now at seventeen years old, it’s apparent that’s not the case. Donghyuck doesn’t have the heart to tell him it probably never will.

“You can help me with the ingredients,” he says as he follows him out of the room, looking back at the trunk one last time. “Everyone knows you’re like some plant whisperer or something.”

He receives a bashful smile in return. “Sounds good. Thanks, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck locks the door to the room and sends the key back where he found it, placing an anti-tracing spell so Nara won’t find out. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there, just gotta call Doyoung real quick.” He gives him the puppy-eye look that always worked in the past. “Please don’t tell your mom I was in here.”

Mark looks at him suspiciously but nods anyway, slippers squeaky against the floor they accidentally spilled a potion on a few hours ago as he heads downstairs. Donghyuck waits until he hears him step outside before pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing his brother’s number. He bites at his fingernails nervously as he listens to the dial tone. “Come on, pick up, pick up…”

Doyoung answers on the third ring, voice scratchy like he hadn’t used it in days. “ _ You better have a good reason for calling during finals week. My last exam is literally in an hour. _ ”

“Doyoung, I don’t really care. We know you’ll graduate with no problem,” he hisses, eyes darting to the window, where he sees Mark chatting with his mom in the garden. He moves a few steps away, out of her field of vision. Just in case. “I just found something big and I need your help.”

“ _ Something big? _ ” Doyoung echoes, sounding more alert. “ _ What’s wrong, Hyuck? _ ”

Donghyuck quickly recounts how he found the key to the locked room in the cottage, how he just wanted to see what was in there, and his discovery of the forbidden texts. Doyoung doesn’t say anything besides an initial sharp intake of breath when he heard about the books. When he finally finishes telling him everything, the line is quiet, like his brother isn’t there anymore. “Hyung?”

“ _ ‘M still here _ ,” he says after a second. There are a few shuffling noises in the background, the sound of crinkling paper and a zipper. “ _ Hyuck, does she know you were there? _ ”

“No, just Mark.”

“ _ Okay. You said it was on a page for a magic transfer spell? _ ” After he confirms it, Doyoung falls silent again. “ _ Oh god _ .”

“What?” Donghyuck paces back and forth, shooting a brief glance out the window. Mark is hunched over some herb plants in the garden, turned away from him. 

“ _ Hyuck, do you remember the missing children _ ?”

“Yeah?” 

He thinks of the three children who went missing from Jaegu over the course of the last month, plus the four from the year before. All of them had traces of budding magic, not enough to become witches like him, but enough to be significant. 

Enough. Just enough.

He can tell the exact moment that Doyoung knows he caught on because his brother sighs. “ _ We don’t know for sure, but it is possible she is taking their magic for herself. Has anything changed recently? Anything noticeable? _ ”

In all honesty, he hasn’t been paying attention to her recently. He had been busy finalizing his final performance for the school year. There was a high chance he could get the scholarship to a university in Seoul if he manages to get the scouts’ attention. He tells his brother this sheepishly, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“ _ I have to go, but stay safe for now, Hyuckie _ ,” Doyoung says, a little distant like he always sounds when he is lost in his thoughts. “ _ I’ll come by once graduation is over, okay? We’ll figure this out _ .”

“Okay. Good luck on your exams. Don’t fail or I’ll kick your ass.”

Doyoung snorts. “ _ And good luck with your performance. Don’t fail or I’ll kick your ass too _ .”

“It’s called break a leg in theater terms.”

“ _ Why the hell would I want you to break a leg? _ ”

“Nevermind,” he sighs fondly.

They hang up without a  _ goodbye _ , and Donghyuck pockets his phone before making his way down the stairs. Even though it is near the end of spring, he feels a bitter cold creeping over his skin.

At this point, he doesn’t know what to do.

Mark looks up from the cauldron he is stirring when he arrives, a frown appearing on his face. He reaches out to cup his cheek and Donghyuck naturally leans into his touch. “Is everything alright, Hyuckie? You’re so pale.”

“Everything’s okay,” he says, noticing how Mark’s hands grow stiff at his lie, “for now.”

“Promise?” Mark’s eyes search his face, hesitant. Unsure. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready to talk about it?”

“Promise,” he says earnestly. This doesn’t feel like a lie. 

☾

Donghyuck hums as he ties the laces of his ballet shoes around his ankles, stretching forward until his head touches the ground. Mark makes a noise under his breath by the mirror, where he’s fiddling with his guitar. 

Writing a song for the two of them, he had said earlier that week. Mark has been super secretive about it, to the point where he even had his mom cast a spell so that Donghyuck wouldn’t listen uninvited, since he knew he would try to find a way to listen to it. (Donghyuck resents that. He resents that a lot.)

“How are you even so flexible?” Mark calls out to him while he continues tuning his guitar strings. “I would’ve definitely broken some bones by now.”

Donghyuck laughs where he’s currently flat against the floor, legs spread out in a split. “It’s years of practice.”

One of the staff members knocks on the door of the dressing room. “Five minutes till you’re on, Hyuck.”

“Okay!” Donghyuck calls back as he scrambles back to his feet. He shares a look with Mark, who puts his guitar down and draws him close. “Guess this is it.”

“You’ll kill it, Hyuck,” Mark murmurs as he presses a kiss to his forehead, careful not to mess up his makeup. Donghyuck giggles when he presses a gentle kiss to his nose as well, tucking one of the sunflowers he brought him behind his ear. “Those college scouts would be crazy not to offer you a scholarship.”

“I hope so,” he sighs, relishing his short time left with Mark. “Let’s head out.”

Even though his nerves are all over the place, he’s practiced his routine so many times, he’s certain he can perform it in his sleep. Donghyuck fixes the sleeves of his flowy shirt and makes sure the flower stays using a bobby pin, smiling as he watches Mark leave the backstage area. Peering out behind the red curtain, he sees him take a seat besides his grandma in the second row.

When the host announces his name, he exits the backstage area and makes his way to center stage. Tuning out the quiet murmurs of the audience, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he steps into starting position. He focuses on the soft piano music, feeling the muscles in his body relax. After a count to three, he moves.

An arabesque, where his arms are spread outwards, body balanced on one leg while the other extends backwards. Donghyuck makes sure that his form is perfect, that his leg is straight and his arms take enough space to make it look full, like a swan taking flight.

Donghyuck performs several rapid steps en pointe, a bourrée, before transitioning to longer leaps across the stage, almost like he is gliding. After building up enough momentum, he launches his body in a series of leaps and spins, preparing himself for the grand jeté at the climax of the song. 

He lands it effortlessly, feet hardly touching the ground as he soars into the air. With the hardest section complete, the rest of it passes by quickly. Donghyuck hears his heart beating loudly in his ears, drowning out the sound of the applause from the audience. When he straightens up from his bow, he sees Nara standing at the double doors with an unreadable expression on her face, a bouquet of begonias in her arms.

All he wants to do is dance and forget all of his worries, but eventually the music comes to an end. 

☾

Donghyuck lightly places his hand against Mark’s forehead and nearly pulls away from the heat out of reflex. The skin burns like there is fire brewing underneath, unnatural. He bites at his bottom lip as he presses a cool washcloth against his forehead.

“Hyuck, I’m fine,” Mark murmurs, voice scratchy from disuse. His eyes are glazed over. “It’s just a small fever. It will pass.”

Donghyuck  _ tsks _ and sticks the washcloth onto the nightstand so he can grab the cup of herbal tea he brewed. “Small fever, my ass. Your temperature has been rising nonstop.”

Mark shivers and pulls his blanket closer, obediently taking a sip of the tea. Normally, Donghyuck would laugh at the face he pulls at the bitter taste, but this seems different from the other times he had fallen ill. It seems almost like it might be permanent, which scares him out of his wits.

He thinks about the conversation he had with Doyoung two weeks ago, and how he hasn’t seen her for the past four days. “Hey Mark, where’s your mom? She might be able to fix this better than I can.”

“Uh, I don’t really know? I saw her last night, but she was gone this morning.” 

“Huh. Okay then, you’re stuck with me.” 

Mark smiles fondly at him and rubs circles onto the back of his hand with a thumb. “I’m fine with that.”

“Ugh, cheesy,” Donghyuck groans as he presses a kiss to his forehead, murmuring a spell under his breath as he pulls away. That should help him get some necessary rest.

He sits in the chair by the window and stays there long after the sun goes down, listening to Mark’s ragged breathing while he hums a lullaby laced with magic. It isn’t long before his breathing quiets as he falls asleep, but Donghyuck can’t find it in himself to close his eyes.

Another child goes missing overnight.

Another day goes by and Mark gets  _ worse _ .

☾

Doyoung never makes it home, but he leaves him a voicemail that makes his heart drop.

_ “Hyuck, take Mark with you and go to Seoul as soon as possible. If Taeyong or Yuta aren’t back from Japan yet, look for Jung Jaehyun at SNU. Please stay safe, okay? Nara is dangerous and you need to stay away from her. She found out…“ _

_ Run.  _

Donghyuck hastily packs a few of their belongings into an old backpack and slings it over his shoulder, wiping tears from his face as he waits for Mark to exit the bathroom. He hasn’t slept in days and his magic is waning because of it. With the disappearance of his brother, he feels like a child who lost his parents at the grocery store. It sucks, but he has to stay strong for their sake.

The weight of the forbidden text sits heavy on his shoulders, buried under their clothing and other essentials. He closes his eyes and feels it, a dark magic throbbing behind the pages, reacting with what lies beyond the door where Mark is. 

Magic that had been unnaturally gathered and forced into an unwilling vessel. Magic that is starting to sour and die.

No, she hasn’t been gathering magic for herself, he realizes. For Mark, who possesses no inherent magic of his own despite his bloodline. 

It has always been for Mark. 

☾

Sometimes monsters hide behind kindness. He’s learned that the hard way.

Donghyuck doesn’t even remember most of the confrontation when he wakes. He remembers telling Mark to run as he frantically puts up a shield against Nara’s magic. He remembers being overwhelmed by it, being swallowed whole by the shadows. And he remembers immense pain before he sees Mark run right in front of him like one of those heroes in the comic books they read.

_ Fucking dumbass _ .

There is electricity in his body, running through his blood and settling deep into his bones. It makes his vision blur, until he can barely make out Nara’s figure between his tears and trembling fingers. She’s still down for now, which means that he still has time. Time, something he always seems to need more of but can’t get.

Everything hurts, he thinks as he buries his wet face into his boyfriend’s shoulder, spells endlessly rolling off his tongue like bullets. It enters his body but flows right out like running water. His heart remains empty and silent.

Mark Lee is not immortal, nor does he possess superhuman strength. At this point, he’s just an ordinary human being ― ordinary human beings can’t withstand that much corrupt magic in their veins without falling apart.

A thought hits him at that moment, something that Doyoung would definitely strangle him for. He never wanted to stoop to her level, but there isn’t anything else that he can think of. In a desperate, frantic last attempt to save him, Donghyuck starts reciting one of the dark spells he memorized while Mark was bedridden. 

Every witch knows of the potential consequences that come from dabbling with dark magic, especially when they do not have the capacity to perform its spells. Mark, whose body cannot hold dark magic to that capacity, won’t survive unless he counters it with his own healing magic. Donghyuck knows that the transfer has backfired when he feels its icy grip on his heart, squeezing the air from his lungs. 

Still, his magic flows through his fingertips and into Mark’s body, where it settles and  _ stays _ .

Muffling a sob, Donghyuck collapses to the ground and curls up next to him, exhausted. The magic he has left is only a weak flicker in his chest, but it glows brightly in Mark’s heart. He thinks about the little music box he stuck under his bed, the one that his mom gifted him when he first started ballet. He thinks about how important it is to him and how Mark  _ knows _ this. He knows that is where he will wait. 

Mark is breathing and his heart beats. He will be back for him when he wakes. 

It takes a lot of effort, but Donghyuck manages to will the fading remnants of his magic to take him to the music box, to rest. A temporary sanctuary for now.

He doesn’t expect for her to have the energy to place one final curse.

☾

This Mark isn’t like the Mark he used to know, he thinks as he observes the boy from a safe distance. He looks worn, like a rubber band that is seconds away from snapping. There are dark shadows beneath his eyes, a heavy weight on his shoulders that affects his posture. 

It has been a year since he had last seen him, a full year since Lee Donghyuck from Jaegu vanished into thin air. It’s been a year, and the first time he sees his boyfriend again is the back of his head as he runs away, carrying a small watermelon in his arms.

Curse his curse.

As much as he wants to go up to Mark, his current body is nothing more than a faint wisp of smoke in the air, confined to the music box he once loved. He’s really grown to hate it since then, tired of staring at endless walls of gold, floating in a limbo of sorts whenever he runs low on energy. It stopped playing music a long time ago.

Donghyuck stares at Mark’s retreating back, at the glowing magic in his core that used to be his. Magic that doesn’t seem to come back to him no matter how much he calls it. Maybe he’s lost his touch, or maybe it’s still protecting his boyfriend. 

“Stop staring so hard, young man. He doesn’t seem to remember anything.”

He pouts as his grandmother moves some of her wares around at her stall, humming a melody from an old tv show under her breath. Kim Hyerin may be a retired witch now, but she still finds time to create magical amulets and trinkets for the daily market. Says it’s because young people are dumb these days for buying fake magical items and need the real thing.

Donghyuck thinks it’s actually because she’s lonely after losing both of her grandsons.

“You don’t know that, Grandma. I think you spooked him, that’s all.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, flicking him on the forehead. It goes right through, but still raises goosebumps on his skin. “Hyuckie, you’re in denial. He spent so much time at my home, eating my food, and still can’t remember me? He owes me a meal.”

Donghyuck sputters in shock. “You’re still keeping track of that?”

“Of course, he offered,” Hyerin grumbles. “You owe me three, plus a slice of lemon cheesecake.”

He snorts. Of course she remembers, especially when food is involved. “I’ll treat you as soon as I’m back then.”

A young couple, most likely tourists, stares in their direction from across the street, visibly disturbed. It must look like his grandmother was talking to herself, since they can’t really see him. She notices, sweetly giving them the middle finger before going back to sorting gemstones. The offended couple stomp away and she smiles in satisfaction. Donghyuck rolls his eyes at her childish antics before remembering that he’s just as petty sometimes. 

“Well?” She places her hands at her hips, squinting at him. He feels like he’s five years old again, when he was first placed under her care. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and get some more magic in you so that I can get that meal you promised!”

He gapes at her. “All for the food? Grandma!”

Hyerin looks like she might smack him over the head again. “I don’t like that my precious grandson looks like an unwanted spirit. Don’t you want to see your friends and family sooner?"

She has a point. Since he’s tied to the music box, he can’t really travel too far away from it, or the curse sucks him back into the darned thing. Donghyuck’s lucky enough that his grandma managed to “summon” him for a short period of time using her magic. Since the markets are bustling with life (and magic), he should make the best of his time here before he has to go back.

“You have two hours,” she says, as if reading his mind. “I’d start with that young couple first.” 

Donghyuck laughs before steps out of the stall, giving her a wink. “Anything for you, Grandma.”

☾

The woods have changed drastically over the last few days.

Donghyuck frowns as he touches a dying leaf, fingers coming away with a faint purple powder when he rubs at it. It strongly reeks of old, corrupt magic. He nearly gags at the suffocating scent, blowing the powder off of his fingers.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he murmurs, staring past the overgrown branches and thorns into the shadowy woods.

As much as he wants to find the source of the dark magic, Taeyong has a point. He wouldn’t be able to do much with his current body, while Taeyong would only be able to provide defensive magic. Donghyuck grimaces and takes a step back from the woods, murmuring a quick tracing spell at the entrance. If anyone or anything passes through the woods, he would be notified. 

“Here goes nothing,” he sighs as he starts on the complicated protection spell, using the magic he gathered over the past week.

It will take a lot of magic and set his return back, but he has to protect Mark and Johnny no matter what.


	5. Chapter 5

In the dream, he chases after a faint light, body bumping into furniture and things that he cannot see in the dark. He’s scared and in pain, fingers trembling from the electricity in his blood and bones. Someone had hurt him, but his mind is too fuzzy to remember who.

At the end of the hallway is a door. Mark takes a few tentative steps forward before pushing past it. Once the bright light fades and his vision clears, he finds himself in the woods. The grass is scorched beneath his feet in an unnatural way, etching a symbol into the earth.  _ A rune _ , his brain supplies.

His feet move on their own accord, until he finds himself running, running, running. Just past the trees, he catches a hint of a small cabin, falling apart from age. 

_ Do you remember? _

A woman who thought what she was doing was correct, even if it hurt the ones she loved. Who shoved something deep into his chest, until he was consumed by flames. Someone whose love was misplaced, who he needs to learn to let go of.

A boy with orange hair and golden eyes, bright smiles and loving words. With magic in his fingertips and a song on his lips, written by the two of them. Someone his heart will never forget, will always come back to.

There is an empty space in his brain, like a black hole that swallows his memories and locks them away. 

_ Why can’t you remember me? _

☾

Mark wakes to warm fingers caressing his face, brushing tears from his cheeks with a tenderness that makes his breath falter. His eyes flutter open, focusing on the boy lying across from him. At the moles forming a constellation on his cheeks, his slightly pouted lips, the eyelashes that cast delicate shadows on his cheekbones. Their hands, still clasped in between them.

Haechan stares back with an unreadable expression, slowly pulling his fingers away from his face. “Bad dream?”

“Bad dream,” he parrots quietly, then like an afterthought, “you stayed.”

There is a beat of silence before Haechan starts laughing, a quiet melodic sound that muffles when he buries his face into Mark’s shoulder. He pulls away and smiles fondly, but for some reason, Mark feels like it isn’t meant for him. “Of course, I did. I keep my promises.”

Mark smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The events that unfolded last night still haunt him, lingering in his mind and heart like smoke. He doesn’t know what it means anymore, what he is doing in Jaegu.

Haechan sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I would love to let you sleep in more, but you need to get up soon. Johnny has been pacing downstairs for an hour already.”

Right, Johnny is waiting for an explanation. Something he may or may not have. When he doesn’t move, Haechan frowns and tugs at the blankets, using his legs to kick him until he surrenders. Mark shoots a glare in his direction as the other boy cheers and wraps himself into a blanket burrito, until only his head of hair is visible.

“Good luck,” Haechan calls after him.

He thinks he really needs as much luck as he can get.

When Mark looks in the bathroom mirror, he is glad that Haechan didn’t say anything about how he looks like absolute shit. There are dark shadows under his eyes and his face is gaunt, pale, like the Mark who ran away from the empty apartment. The Mark that he has been trying to forget about. 

He quickly brushes his teeth and spits out the bitter taste in his mouth, splashing water on his face to wake himself up. Changes out of his pajamas like he’s putting on a suit of armor, preparing for war. 

Johnny looks up from his phone when he finally goes downstairs, looking just as tired and dead on the inside as he does. Although he shoots a tired smile at Mark, he looks like he is lightyears away, lost in thought. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Mark murmurs as he slides into the seat across from him, resting his elbows on the island counter. It’s cool against his skin, making him crave Haechan’s warmth once more. “First of all, there is something I need to tell you, but not yet. Is that okay?"

His cousin slowly sticks his phone into his back pocket, eyes studying his face. A little cautious, a little worried, but he knows Johnny will always respect his boundaries. “I mean, I always said you should tell me things when you’re ready.”

Good, because Mark isn’t too keen on explaining how he got himself involved in a magical mess. “Last night, I think I was just stressed and confused. Thinking about Mom and everything that has happened so far. I just need you to clarify one thing.”

“Stressed and confused,” Johnny parrots, rubbing at his temple when Mark nods. “I… okay. What’s up?”

He thinks about the dreams he has been having, ones that he can’t remember once he wakes up. Ones where the details feel so vivid he feels like they’re real. He also thinks about the people in Jaegu who seem to remember him, as if he has been here before in a time he can’t recall. Perhaps he had known them once, before the black hole in his brain that left a gap in his memory. 

“Johnny, have I ever been here before?” Mark asks, watching as his cousin’s face scrunches first in sadness, then confusion. 

When he thinks about it, all he remembers is moving to Seoul with his dad after his mom’s disappearance, going through years and years of high school like an empty shell of a boy. A quiet childhood in Toronto. Nothing about which middle school he attended or the details of his sixteenth birthday. Those memories slip through his fingers like sand.

Johnny stares at him for a few seconds. “What do you mean?”

Mark probably will sound crazy. He just hopes Johnny won’t send him back to Seoul just yet. “I don’t know how to describe this, but I don’t remember anything? Like I remember my childhood in Toronto and coming to Seoul after my mom disappeared, but all the little details after that are gone? People seem to know me here, but I don’t know them.”

They stare at each other once more. Johnny sounds as horrified as he looks. “Like you have amnesia?”

He gives his cousin an exasperated look. Johnny holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay! Just saying. I was still in Chicago that time, but you lived with your mom in Jaegu until last year. After she… disappeared, I’m pretty sure you were in Seoul with your dad for a year before I came back.” His brows furrow as Mark’s mouth drops open. “Dude, you really don’t remember?”

“No?” Mark nervously tucks some of his hair behind his ears, tugging at the short strands when they don’t stay. His stomach flops and flops. Johnny makes a distressed noise, reaching over to gently pull his hands away. “How come I don’t remember that year? How come it’s all a blur?”

“Mark, calm down. Breathe.”

It takes him a few minutes before his breathing goes back to normal, for his heartbeat to fade from his eardrums. He holds onto Johnny’s hands like a lifeline, knuckles turning white from how hard he holds on. 

_ It doesn’t make any sense. _

It has only been a year. It has only been a year, but his mind has stretched it out to several. He wonders just how much time truly passed while he remained rooted in the same place, full of old memories mixing together like watercolor.

☾

Haechan isn’t there when he returns, no matter how much he calls for him.

So much for keeping promises.

☾

The first thing he sets out to do: find information on Mark Lee.

Digging for his past information is a bit strange, but after his brief conversation with Johnny, something is definitely wrong with his memories. It doesn’t help that Haechan hasn’t showed up in two days. Mark had nearly gone bald pacing in his room, opening and closing the music box, anything for a sign of the other boy. 

Johnny says it might be PTSD or a result of his trauma. 

Mark thinks the jumbled mess in his brain is much more than that.

Kim Hyerin isn’t in the marketplace, her usual stall space empty. When he asks the vendors nearby, they tell him that she will be gone for a few more days. Something about visiting someone important in Seoul, plus several exorcism appointments.

After biking around for nearly three hours, Mark does find something interesting when he visits the only high school in Jaegu. He used to attend Jaegu High, where he was valedictorian during his final year. Gave a speech and everything at graduation that he woefully cannot recall. One of the janitors there tells him that he used to see him walking around with two kids, surprised when he doesn’t remember them. (It comes as a surprise to him too, having two best friends in a town like this.)

_ You’re in luck. You can find Jaemin at the diner today. _

So here he is. Sunshine Diner. The walls are painted a soft yellow and white with fairy lights dangling above the spacious windows. Mark supposes it’s cute and kind of looks like a sunny side egg in a way. The interior of the diner is decorated in the same theme, with small succulents lining the windows. Quiet and homey.

The only visible waiter is a young man slumped over the counter in a sky blue hoodie and white apron, idly twisting strands of dry baby pink hair. They stick up like two little devil horns. He looks up when he enters, a tired smile forming on his face as he straightens. “Hi! Welcome to Sunshine Diner!”

Nana, if the name tag is correct, looks like an angel. Even if his eyes seem to be drooping shut as he stands there. Mark wonders if he’s actually looking at him or falling asleep on the spot.

“Have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.” He opens a door probably leading to the kitchen and disappears, hiding a yawn behind his hand as he grabs an empty coffee pot on the way in.

Mark decides to just grab a seat at the counter, sliding into the bar stool furthest from the rest of the customers around. Just in case he accidentally causes a scene. He mindlessly skims over the menu as he waits for the other to return.

“Alright, I’m back! Have you decided on your ord—”

Mark jumps when a pen suddenly drops in front of him, clattering noisily before rolling off to the side. His hand quickly shoots out to stop it from rolling onto the floor. He looks up to see “Nana” staring at him with wide eyes, mouth open in shock. The notebook in his hands slips out of his grip, and Mark snatches it out of the air on its way down. 

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, reaching over the counter to envelop Mark in a tight hug. Mark stiffens awkwardly, uncomfortable with the sudden hug from someone he doesn’t know. “Mark, it’s about time!”

“Huh?” Mark’s brain unhelpfully goes blank. 

The other boy pulls away, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Wait a minute.” Mark yelps when the other boy pokes at him with a bony finger. “Why didn’t you stop by to see me earlier, man?” He sounds almost scandalized.

Mark watches in horror as the bright smile on the boy’s face slowly drops off of his face the longer it takes for him to answer. He almost feels too scared to ask. “Are you Jaemin, by any chance?”

He gets a blank stare in return. “Dude, are you for real? Or is this some kind of sick joke?”

“No?” Mark shakes his head fervently.

Jaemin gapes at him. “Oh my god, we were best friends! You’ve only been gone like a year. College really that bad?” He places his hands on his hips, looking like he might scold him at any second. “Is that why you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls?”

“Okay, this is hard to explain,” Mark says sheepishly as he rubs at the back of his neck, “but I kind of lost my memory, haha.”

“Huh.” Jaemin rests his elbows against the countertop, leaning closer as if studying him. Mark doesn’t know why, but he gazes at him like he can see into his soul. Like he already knows. “And I thought everyone was lying to me when they told me.”

“You already knew?” Mark squawks. “Wait, are you a wi—”

“Nah, I’m totally human,” Jaemin interrupts, glancing at the other customers in the diner briefly. “Listen, why don’t we talk somewhere more private? I’m not too fond of people eavesdropping.”

He gestures for Mark to follow him, taking off his apron and shouting a quick ‘ _ break time _ ’ into the kitchen. Mark quickly ducks under the counter and follows after him. The two of them end up in the back of the diner, where Jaemin somehow manifests two black stools out of nowhere.

“Before you ask, I know a lot of the older residents here from volunteering,” Jaemin says as he takes a seat, unbothered when the stool makes an ugly screech, “and I’ve known Taeyong-hyung since I first moved here. I help him with stuff from time to time.”

Mark feels like he probably should have just gone to Taeyong first at this point. It would have saved him the four hours he spent running around everywhere. 

Jaemin laughs at the expression on his face. “What do you want to know?”

Everything. He wants to know what his life was in Jaegu, how his mom was like, why he doesn’t remember his friends and family from here. Why he has bad dreams of fire in his chest, burning him from the outside in, and an old shed in the woods, hidden from view. Mark wants to learn more about Haechan, the witch who knew him. 

“The other boy everyone keeps mentioning,” Mark starts, noticing how Jaemin’s shoulders tense, despite the smile that remains on his face. He swallows thickly, slightly perplexed as he thinks of the box hidden under the bed. “Is Lee Donghyuck… Haechan?”

When he thinks about it, the clues were always there, from the very first meeting. Haechan, the witch who dances ballet, who knows the cottage inside and out like he has lived there for years. Bright, bright Haechan, who loves sunflowers and hums a familiar tune under his breath. 

Jaemin pulls out his phone, a picture of three boys as his wallpaper. He taps on the boy in the middle before handing it to him. “Haechan was his stage name, you know, for his ballet performances.”

Mark feels his stomach flip as he takes the phone from Jaemin, eyes immediately finding his own face where he stands between the two boys, Jaemin on his left and Haech– no, Donghyuck, on his right. A wave of goosebumps rise on his skin as he studies their faces from a year ago. 

“Oh my god.”

His hair is more of a caramel brown than pale orange in the picture, but he wears the same smile, bright and infectious. A black t-shirt with watermelon print on it that Mark recognizes as his. Zooming into the photo with shaky fingers, Mark spots the familiar constellation of moles on his cheeks. Lee Donghyuck really is Haechan. 

“Donghyuck disappeared sometime last year,” Jaemin says as he takes his phone back before Mark can drop it with his shaky fingers, sticking it back into his pocket, “along with your mom and his older brother.” He taps on his chin in thought. “I think that was when everything started.”

His mom was involved with this somehow. Mark swallows the knot in his throat. Bitter. “When what started?”

“The rumors of the woods being haunted, children disappearing, and stuff. I don’t really know as much as I act like I do,” Jaemin admits after a moment, “but I do think you should visit Taeyong-hyung soon.” 

Mark nods, “I will."

“Just so you know,” Jaemin’s eyes glitter in the shadows, a mixture of determination and sadness, “I would like for  _ both _ of my friends to come back this time.”

Mark knows better than to keep promises that he might not be able to deliver.

☾

Taeyong opens the door after the third knock, a pair of safety goggles and pink rubber gloves on. He doesn’t seem surprised to find him on his doorstep, panting after running all the way from the diner. “Mark, come in. I was just testing a new potion recipe.”

Mark follows Taeyong into the cottage, toeing off his shoes at the entrance before following the older witch to the living room. There’s smoke filling the room from the kitchen, a light lavender smoke that smells suspiciously like cotton candy. Taeyong waves his hand and the smoke travels back into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“You knew everything,” Mark spits as he follows him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He feels anger and frustration rotting in his insides, ready to bubble out. Tries to reign it in because it wouldn’t do him good to take it out on Taeyong. “About me, my mom, and Hae– Donghyuck.”

The older witch looks apologetic as he tucks his safety goggles into his shirt collar, pulling off the rubber gloves and placing them on a corner of the coffee table. “I did. You know why I didn’t say anything yet.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have believed you if you told me at the time,” Mark reluctantly agrees. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” Taeyong asks softly, worry evident in his eyes. “It might be a lot to take in.”

“I’ll be fine,” He assures him, though he feels his stomach twist and twist some more. Another lie to add to the ever growing pile.

“Ok,” Taeyong claps his hands together. “Have a seat. I’ll bring some tea.”

Mark thanks him and plops down onto the couch, fiddling with his fingers as he waits. There are a lot of things that he suspects are true, things that are still very uncertain. His frustration and anger wilts down, until all that is left is apprehension. He wants to know what happened, but that curiosity does little to rid him of fear, of what he will find. 

“Alright, let’s start from the very beginning, I guess,” Taeyong says as he settles the mugs onto the coffee table, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. Mark thanks him and takes a sip to calm his nerves. “Your mom is a witch, specifically the former Overseer of Jaegu.”

Mark nearly spits out his mouthful of tea, barely managing to swallow it down with a weak cough. “The what?”

“Overseers,” Taeyong patiently explains, “are chosen witches. They basically protect the town or city they reside in from dark magic and other dangerous entities.” He pauses for a moment. “Like a police chief for the supernatural community?”

_ Okay _ . He was not expecting that.

“I’m guessing that the magic in your body is altering your memories,” Taeyong frowns, looking into his mug as if it held the secrets to the universe, “since it isn’t yours. You… never had magic to begin with, despite being the son of a powerful witch.”

Mark blinks owlishly at him. “Then whose magic do I have…?”

“Donghyuck’s magic.” Taeyong chuckles at the bewildered look on Mark’s face, but it sounds a little sad. “Let’s just say that something happened and your heart stopped. Hyuck’s magic saved you.”

“Wait, I  _ died _ ?”

“Kind of? Only for a little bit, no worries.”

Honestly, Mark doesn’t feel very reassured.

“Wait, this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” Taeyong says sheepishly as he rubs at the back of his neck, his mug of tea balanced precariously on a bony knee. “Uh, I’m going to need you to lie down for a second and put a pillow under your head. Let me go grab some stuff.”

“Okay?” Mark honestly has no idea what’s going on but goes with it anyways, shifting until he’s lying on the couch with his head on a pillow. His feet and ankles stick out past the armrest. “What are we doing now?”

“I’m going to try and restore your memories,” Taeyong calls from the kitchen. “I think Hyuck already tried to get his magic back from you, but it didn’t work. It did make it easier to break down, so this should hopefully work.”

He comes back with an enormous book tucked under his arm, as well as a bowl of assorted herbs, candles, and crystals. Quite daunting, the way Taeyong looks at its contents like he has no idea what he will do with them. 

“Have you done this before?” Mark asks dubiously as Taeyong flips to a page in the middle of the book, humming under his breath as candles float around the couch in an ovular shape.

“Nope,” Taeyong says as he blows on a candle and all of them light up in succession. At the worried look on Mark’s face, he pouts. “I’m a talented witch, no worries. The other option was to knock you out until your memories returned, but I told Hyuck that multiple concussions weren’t going to help you.”

_ Oh my god _ . Mark wants to sob, because the situation is absolutely ridiculous but sounds exactly like the other boy.

Taeyong places his hands on either side of his head, fingers bleeding cold against his skin. He immediately winces. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. This might hurt.”

Mark screams. 

☾

There is a small hole in his chest, where his magic is meant to be.

Mark doesn’t know why he keeps pretending that he is still waiting for it to manifest, when he knows that he is meant to be normal. Perhaps it is the fact that his blood comes from the Seo family, a bloodline overflowing in magic. Or maybe perhaps it is because his mom smiles less the more time passes. Maybe he just wants to see her smile again. 

For mostly everyone he knows, Seo Nara is the kindest, warmhearted witch in Jaegu. Practically a saint, who does her best to maintain the peace in the town. Someone who would never hurt even a fly, who would quickly sacrifice herself for others.

In Mark’s opinion, his mom is two-faced, and he never knows which side of her he will get. She can be the most loving mom who sings lullabies to him at night when she tucks him in, who presses a kiss to his forehead with a murmured ‘ _ I love you _ ’ when he leaves for school.

And sometimes she can be cruel, lashing out at him when he can’t perform a simple spell, ignoring him for a week before they try it again and again. Rinse and repeat. How can Mark tell her that he feels nothing in his chest, not even a whisper of magic telling him that he can do it? How can he tell her when he hates seeing her get upset because her son is the only Seo without magic?

Is she truly capable of hurting someone, of hurting him?

It starts with Kim Dongyoung, her only apprentice who was slowly dying from magic flooding his small body, now losing magic. Still just as powerful, but something is off, like his magic is slightly tinged with poison. He can tell by the look on Donghyuck’s face whenever Doyoung visits that he can also tell. Something about this isn’t natural, not at all.

Then there’s a room that she keeps locked up in the cottage, forbidding him from ever entering. After he had seen his boyfriend leaving the room, Mark had gone and picked the lock the next day. There had been trunks and boxes of ancient spellbooks, scrolls, and artifacts. Bleeding so much dark energy that even he, someone without magic, could sense as a prickle between his shoulder blades.

She has always been able to read him like a book, so he keeps his secrets to himself. He doesn’t tell her that the magic she sticks in his body is unnatural, killing him slowly by burning him inside out. Mark hopes that Donghyuck or Doyoung or even Taeyong will eventually figure it out. Sometimes he wishes that he just told them right away. Maybe then, it wouldn’t have happened the way it did.

A child goes missing, then another, and another. The leaves in the woods grow brittle and fall to their graves while the trees twist their branches together to form barriers. A threat for those who wish to enter. The woods have changed and the people begin to notice. 

It is rather ironic that it ends there, in the woods of Jaegu. Donghyuck tells him that they have to go to Seoul right away, to get help from some of Doyoung’s friends there before the magic kills him. Before his mom, who seems like she would never hurt a fly, will kill them. He just doesn’t expect for her to find out so soon.

_ Why are you doing this? Making me choose between two people I love? _

“Stop!” Mark calls out desperately from the side, helpless while his mom throws dark magic after Donghyuck, who barely manages to cast defensive spells to counter them. His body shakes with effort as he screams until his throat is hoarse, the fire in his chest still burning. “Mom, stop. Please!”

She ignores him and whispers another spell under her breath, dark flames shooting out until they surround Donghyuck. He can tell that his boyfriend is getting weak by the way he violently shakes his head before casting another spell, condition made worse by his lack of sleep over the past few nights. The golden shield around them begins to falter as well, small cracks appearing where Donghyuck stands.

Mark watches in horror as it shatters into dust, as Donghyuck recoils when a spell she casts makes contact with his shoulder. He lets out a muffled scream and runs out in front of him, looking up just in time to see the large shadow shooting towards them.

_ Mom, you won’t hurt me, will you? _

He doesn’t know how to describe it but a hot flash of pain that runs across his body like lightning, then darkness. 

When he finally wakes again, he’s in Seoul in an empty apartment, chasing after the ghost of his mom. A single year stretched out into several, blurry years.

☾

This is how you died, Mark Lee. Are you satisfied?

The hole in your head might be patched up now, but it doesn’t feel any better knowing the truth. 

☾

Taeyong told him that the elder witches tried to seal his mom’s magic, but she managed to escape. He also could have broken Donghyuck’s curse long ago, but the other boy wanted to wait until he returned to Jaegu.  _ We really are dumb and dumber _ , Mark thinks bitterly as he walks home, skin tingling lightly where Taeyong casted a protection spell before he left.

He slips off his shoes at the door and stomps to the bottom of the stairs, inhaling before he shouts, “LEE DONGHYUCK!”

Like the times he tried before, there isn’t any answer. 

He curses under his breath as he makes his way to his room, overwhelmed and frustrated by his conversations with Jaemin and Taeyong. His own  _ boyfriend _ and childhood friend had been right there, right in his grasp, and now he’s gone once. 

The music box sits quietly on his nightstand as he rummages in the drawers until he finds the diary again. Mark carefully pulls it out, rubbing his finger on the sunflower stickers surrounding Donghyuck’s name. He still can’t bring himself to read the diary, feeling like he’s invading his privacy. Instead, he digs around until he finds what he initially thought was a spare key for the cottage.

The metal feels unnaturally cold. Mark hisses as an electric current runs up his arm, humming under his skin. “What?”

It wasn’t like this before, back when he first found Donghyuck’s box. He swallows nervously as he holds it away from his body for a moment, until the feeling is nothing but a small tingle at his fingertips. Mark makes his way out to the locked room the two of them had avoided when they first arrived, thinking that it was just a storage room. He sticks the key into the keyhole and turns, shivering slightly when the door unlocks with a click.

The first thing he notices is that the room looks exactly like it did in his memories, like it had been frozen in time. There are no traces of dust on the tall bookshelves or elaborate trunks around the room. Mark feels his heart beat faster as he takes several cautious steps into the room. His gut tells him to leave, that the room is dangerous. 

“Donghyuck?” Mark’s voice cracks as he calls out to the boy, fingers slightly shaking as he runs a hand along a trunk. “I’m kind of scared, haha. Could you, like, stay with me? Guide me or something?”

He pauses and looks around the room for a sign, anything, but finds it just as silent as before. The floor by the door creaks a little, which spooks him a bit, but nothing shows up. Mark wonders if ghosts exist, slightly disappointed he never got to ask Taeyong about them. 

“Alright, let’s see what we have,” he mutters as he pops open one of the trunks. 

There are a bunch of scrolls neatly stacked on the left side of the trunk, with several books propped up to the right. This was the box, he thinks as he runs a finger along the spines of the books, that he caught Donghyuck looking through the day he started acting strange. All of these must be the forbidden texts his mom collected over the years.

One of them catches his attention right away, a rather worn book with purple accents and bookmarks sticking out of the pages. His breath catches in his throat as he recognizes it as the one Donghyuck took from his mom when he got really sick. The one with magic transfer spells that she used on him throughout the years.

Mark opens the page to the first bookmark and is hit with a sense of deja vu when he recognizes it from a picture he saw once on Donghyuck’s phone. If what Taeyong told him was accurate, then it’s probably the spell Donghyuck used on him once he… died that day. He rubs absentmindedly at his chest as he flips through the pages to the next bookmarks. 

There are spells that he can’t even read, written in an ancient language he has never seen before. Based on the faded pictures beside the text, it doesn’t look very pleasant. He wonders if there’s anything on summoning demons or other supernatural creatures.

The floor by the door creaks again. Mark holds his breath as his grip on the book nearly falters, hairs at the nape of his neck standing up from how eerie the situation is. Johnny wouldn’t be back for another two hours ― if it isn’t Donghyuck, then who is it? He swallows and slowly turns around to look.

_ Oh shit _ .

There’s a woman hovering in the doorway, ghostly pale and translucent. Familiar. His body automatically jerks backwards as he drops the book at his feet, his heart beating loudly in his ears. “M-mom?”

She smiles at him with a crazed look in her eyes, gruesome with her smudged red lipstick and dirt-covered white sundress. The air in the room crackles with electricity. 

_ Mark, my son. Why don’t you follow me _ ?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheezes two more chapters....

It feels like he has been sleeping for a very long time. Far too long. 

Donghyuck can hear the muffled sound of someone calling his name, but he can’t seem to bring himself to get up. His body is tired and weighed down from overusing his magic. He can name hundreds of spells from memory, knows the name of every herb and element useful for most potions, but failed to hold a simple protection spell. 

At times like this, he really wishes that his past self would’ve slept more. If Doyoung ever found out that he was this sleep-deprived, he would definitely get an earful. 

_Donghyuck… stay with me._

Wait, he knows that voice. It takes a while, but Donghyuck manages to open his eyes, hissing in pain at the sunlight as he sits up. He’s on the floor of his old bedroom, the one that Mark is currently staying in. The bed is slightly rumpled, as if the other boy had been sitting there not too long ago. However, the sheets are cold to the touch.

“Mark?” Donghyuck calls out tentatively as he stands up, stretching out his tired limbs as he makes his way to the bedroom door. When no one answers, he pokes his head out. “Is anyone here?”

Judging by the lack of noise in the house, Donghyuck assumes that both Mark and Johnny probably aren’t there. He wonders if Taeyong ever got the chance to tell Mark everything, or if his boyfriend had figured something out on his own. He winces as he thinks of the older witches Taeyong might call back to Jaegu in order to help them, but if Nara truly is back, then they definitely need the help.

As he steps towards the stairs, the floor creaks behind him. He freezes where he stands, goosebumps raising on his skin as he feels a cool breeze from the end of the hallway. This isn’t a good sign.

Donghyuck murmurs a quick protection spell and slowly turns around, eyes darting along the walls until they land on the door. It should be locked, he thinks as he walks towards it as if in a trance, shivering when he sees the familiar trunks and artifacts in plain view. It should have been locked.

His breath falters when he sees the book lying on the ground, as if it had been dropped and left there. The air in the room is thick with putrid, decaying magic that makes his stomach twist. There are words written on the walls in ash.

 _Come to the woods, Donghyuck. Let’s go back to where it all began_.

☾

Johnny has been hiding things from Mark.

 _It’s okay_ , he always tries to reason, _Mark isn’t telling him anything either_. It’s for his own good, until he can figure out what’s going on. 

Johnny wants to know why strange things keep happening to Mark, unnatural things that he luckily doesn’t notice. He wants to know why the people in the Jaegu markets welcome Mark as if he had been there before, why Kim Hyerin tells him to place special pouches around the cottage for protection every two days. Why the Haechan kid looks exactly like the boyfriend Mark talked about when he was still in Chicago getting ready to come back to Seoul. Donghyuck, if he remembers correctly.

There is a poster hanging on the walls by the only police station in town, filled with pictures of missing children. Oftentimes, Johnny just passes by after work without looking at their faces, at the flowers and toys that show up every morning. It makes him nervous that something will happen to Mark. A bit like a bad omen, he supposes.

Johnny doesn’t know what compels him to look at the wall today, at the faces he had seen on television a while back. A little boy wearing a red baseball cap, one of his front teeth missing as he smiles at the camera. A toddler who holds some flowers in her tiny fist, eyes focused on something off to the side. Children, all children.

At the very center is a faded photograph of two teenagers, the only ones who aren’t children. Johnny frowns and takes a few steps closer to get a better look. They’re smiling to the camera with their arms thrown across shoulders, visibly happy, unsettlingly familiar. He finds himself holding his breath as he leans in to read the names written on the bottom in tiny font, just to check that he’s not hallucinating.

 _Kim Dongyoung and Lee Donghyuck_.

Mark’s boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck. Haechan, the boy he brought back if his eyes don’t deceive him. Missing.

He finds himself backing off and running, bumping into people left and right as he hastily throws apologies. His gut tells him that Mark is in danger, and he needs to get there before anything happens. It starts to rain too ― what a cliche sign. Johnny curses under his breath as he calls Mark’s phone.

_One ring. Two._

Johnny has been hiding things from Mark, his way of protecting him for now.

_Three._

Standing before the cottage, where the front door is swinging back and forth in the wind, he kind of realizes now that it’s a shit reason.

_The number you have dialed is currently not available…_

But he might be too late.

☾

Three sharp knocks.

Taeyong sighs and carefully places his bookmark down, shrugging off the blanket around his shoulders and padding over to the door in his worn bunny slippers. He presses his hand against the wood briefly, eyes flickering over to the clock on the wall. The clock strikes midnight. After muttering a quick protection spell under his breath, just a precaution really, he opens the door.

_Seo Youngho._

The older man is absolutely drenched from the heavy rain, shuffling on the worn doormat with his jaw clenched. “Can I come in?” There is a hint of desperation and anger in his voice, eyes wild. “ _Please_.”

“Of course.” Taeyong cautiously steps aside to let him in, frowning at the pool of water accumulating on his floor. “I think you should clean up before we talk. Hold still.”

He rubs his hands together and blows on his palms, words of a spell on the tip of his tongue. Johnny doesn’t say anything, simply flinches when the water evaporates from his wet body within seconds. “There we are.”

Taeyong freezes immediately after when he realizes he definitely exposed himself, but Johnny doesn’t seem to be as surprised as he thought he would be. Good, because Taeyong is terrible at memory alteration spells. (That, and they feel a bit unethical to perform.)

“It’s late,” he says, fiddling with his fingers behind his back. Something about this situation doesn’t feel right. “Is something wrong?”

“Mark’s missing,” Johnny whispers, “I can’t find him.”

For a moment, he feels like he stepped back in time, back to the night he was told that Doyoung and Donghyuck were missing. It surely feels that way, watching as a myriad of emotions make their way onto Johnny’s face. He lets out a controlled breath, counting to four in his head, an attempt to exorcise the heavy feeling in his chest. It doesn’t, not when Johnny lets out a wounded noise and buries his face in his hands.

Taeyong inhales sharply, quietly gesturing towards the living room. He sinks back into his spot on the couch, watching as Johnny removes his shoes and sits across from him. “What happened?”

“The door to the storage room was wide open,” Johnny says after a beat of silence. “The one that’s normally locked. There was ash on the walls. Words, I think, but someone tried to wipe them away.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find him.”

Taeyong subconsciously bites at the skin around his thumb, nervous as he thinks about the dark magic and forbidden materials locked away in the room. It was supposed to be destroyed, but everyone decided it would be better to do so after Donghyuck’s curse is broken. The fact that the door was open and Mark is gone really worries him, especially with the traces of corrupted magic appearing recently.

And a potential message? Now he’s absolutely sure that Nara is back.

He stands up and begins to pace as he thinks, stomach rolling at the thought. Johnny doesn’t say anything, but his eyes follow him. “This is bad. This is _really_ bad.”

“What’s going on?” Johnny asks, stopping him with a light touch to his wrist. Taeyong finds himself shivering at the piercing look in his eyes, as if he can see right through him. “Please, I need to find Mark. If you know something–”

“Johnny, do you believe in magic?” Taeyong interrupts.

The other man pauses for a second, brows furrowed. “You know, I wouldn’t have believed in it a few months ago. But then I took in Mark and strange things began to happen.” He gestures towards Taeyong with his head. “And then you magically did… that. Got rid of the water.”

“What strange things?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn’t come off as nosy.

“He was having nightmares for weeks. There were things flying around the room and his chest was glowing, right where his heart is. Little things here and there that didn’t make any sense.” Johnny laughs, but there isn’t any mirth in it. “I don’t think he ever noticed, but it took me so long to wrap my head around it. Magic, right? What else could it be?”

“It’s not his magic, you know?” Taeyong murmurs quietly when Johnny doesn’t continue. “It belongs to Donghyuck. Mark’s… normal.”

Johnny makes a wounded noise. “That’s what Kim Hyerin told me the first time we met.”

He wonders what she told him, if she told him everything about Donghyuck and Mark. About Nara and what she did to the two of them. Afterall, she is also a Seo as well. It will be difficult to swallow.

“I need to know,” Johnny says slowly, a hint of hesitation on his face. “I want to help Mark in any way that I can, but I don’t know what I’m dealing with here.”

God, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Magic comes easy for Taeyong. The warmth beating in his chest, the tingle in his fingertips, spells rolling off his tongue and in his head ― it’s all he’s ever known. It comes as easy as breathing but when he’s asked to describe it, he finds his mind empty of all words.

Johnny Seo truly is an enigma, he thinks as he tilts his head to the side and _looks_ at him. Someone born in such a prominent family, powerful magic coursing through their blood. He is aware of its existence but unable to use it. Strange, considering how Taeyong can see the magic lurking under his skin. It’s dormant, untouched. Johnny probably doesn’t even know it’s there.

He feels a slight headache forming. 

“This is a really long story,” Taeyong murmurs as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Before we go through it, I’m going to call some friends in.”

“Oh. Other… witches?” Johnny asks, a curious glint in his eyes when Taeyong nods.

“We’re going to need all the help we can get if we want Mark and Donghyuck back.”

☾

Mark gasps as he sits up, eyes and lungs burning as he greedily inhales. He was just at the cottage, he swore he was at the cottage, when he– 

His mom. Mark freezes at the tickly feeling of grass underneath his palms,at the dark willowy shapes of the trees around him. Just a whole bunch of trees forming a prison-like square, so tightly packed that he can hardly see through them. This section of the woods looks scorched, the air holding just a hint of smoke. It’s freezing, despite the fact that it’s still summer. Unnatural, like the room in the cottage.

His bones ache when he twists to look around, breath forming a white cloud in front of him. “Hello?”

When he doesn’t get a response, he scrambles to his feet. This has to be close to the place, he thinks as he examines the scorch patterns in the grass, where their last showdown happened. The tree branches are overgrown and tangled together now, almost like a gated area, but it’s still familiar. He remembers running through a grassy path with Donghyuck, lungs on fire as they ran from his mom. 

He should definitely get out of here before she finds him again.

The branches hardly move when he tugs at them. Mark kicks at them until they fall apart, making a hole small enough for him to crawl out. He ignores the way they scratch at his skin and clothes, wincing as he pulls himself through. At this point, he’d rather get a couple of scratches and splinters than face his mother a second time. That would be much less painful.

First problem out of the way. Now that he’s out, Mark remembers that he has absolutely no sense of direction. He groans and rubs at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Think, Mark, think…“

He kind of wishes that he joined the boy scouts back when he was still in Canada— maybe he would be able to navigate the wilderness like they always advertise if he had. Every path he sees looks exactly the same, covered in dying leaves and dirt. Which brings him to realize that he’s barefoot, only wearing a pair of mismatched socks. After a quick pat through all of his pockets, he realizes that he doesn’t have his phone with him.

Mark sighs. His gut tells him to follow the nearly covered path to his left.

He carefully tiptoes around broken tree branches and sharp rocks until he makes it to the path, sticking closer to the trees just in case he needs to hide. His heart is beating in his chest at the fear of getting caught, which makes the whole situation a tad bit more freaky. Honestly? He can totally see why the people in Jaegu call these woods haunted.

_Mark._

His head snaps to the left. “Hyuck?”

There’s a small warmth blossoming in his chest, a faint burst of sunlight that he _knows_ is Donghyuck. This magic is not his, not like the one that burned painfully from the midst of his core. It is familiar and welcoming, a gentle tug in the right direction. 

Mark follows the feeling in his chest, past the endless trees and through the shadows. He knows that he is going deeper into the woods, but his gut tells him that Donghyuck is there waiting for him. Waiting, watching, always waiting. He had already made him wait too long this past year.

When he finally makes it to the heart of the woods, he finds the cabin from his dreams.

Mark can’t bring himself to breathe as he takes a few cautious steps towards the old wood cabin, eyeing the moss and rot eating away at its walls. He thought it had nearly been a figment of his imagination, something his mind made up when it was still lost in time. But it exists, and it makes him question what it means.

“Donghyuck?” He calls out tentatively as he tries to open the door. Locked. “Are you there?”

There’s a pause before he hears a creak of the wood. Mark barely manages to press his ear closer to the walls when he hears it, muffled and barely audible, but there. “Mark?”

He nearly laughs in relief at the sound of his voice. “Hyuck.”

“No, no, no! Mark, get out of here right now!” Donghyuck calls out frantically. Mark freezes where he’s crouched over, ready to kick the rotted door in. “It’s a trap! She’s here!”

Okay, not quite the reunion he was expecting.

Mark stumbles backwards, hissing as he lands on some sharp pebbles. There’s an acrid scent in the air that he can’t place, followed by a thin veil of smoke entering through the trees. In the distance, he hears the crackling sound of tree branches snapping and footsteps on dead leaves. Before he can move, someone pulls his head back with a hand on either side of his head.

Nara just smiles at him with a crazy look in her eyes, cold fingers gripping his cheeks until he’s sure that the skin will bruise. 

“My son, how I have missed you.”

☾

It has been almost a year since he last set foot in Jaegu.

Jaehyun glances at him before returning back to the road. “You okay? I can hear you thinking from here.”

“A little nervous,” he responds quietly after a while, eyes fixated on the sprawling ocean view. “I just… don’t know how to feel.”

His best friend had lied to him, and his younger brother had asked him to do so. They had let him wander for a year thinking that he had lost absolutely everything. Does he hate them for it? Yes, definitely. Does he understand why they did it? Yes. After all, Donghyuck has always been convincing, while Taeyong has a big heart almost incapable of telling him no.

Now that he thinks about it, maybe he feels a hint of fear. There are so many things that can go wrong, and he feels like he’s coming in with his expectations too high. After all, there is a lot at stake this time now that he knows the truth. 

But he has to face his demons eventually. Everyone does at some point.

Jaehyun hums their favorite song under his breath, taking one of his hands off the wheel to intertwine their fingers. He sinks further into his seat and tries to relax as the car turns into a dirt road he remembers. Nothing has changed really, besides the extra flowers planted along the sidewalk. Everything is still worn and humming faintly with old magic, frozen in time. 

“We’re here,” Jaehyun calls out as he parks by a worn mailbox. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

He steps out of the car, legs a bit sore from the long car ride. His eyes sweep along the familiar landscape until they land on his best friend. Taeyong still looks the same with his light blue hair, though it’s gotten longer in the back since he last saw him in person, veering towards mullet territory. (It’s slightly infuriating how well he can pull that off.)

Taeyong’s eyes are shining, slightly wet with tears despite the happy smile on his face. There’s a tall man standing behind him in the doorway, a confused expression on his face that he kind of wants to laugh at. He makes a noise under his breath as Taeyong nearly trips on the steps, running towards him with open arms.

“Welcome back, Doyoung.”

☾

Well, damn. Taeyong wasn’t lying when he said that it was a long story.

So apparently, most members of Johnny’s family and his ancestors are descendants of witches. They’re one of the most powerful families in the magical community in fact. According to Taeyong, Johnny has inherited some of that magic. Powerful, powerful magic that he has never seen or felt before. (Instead of worrying so much about Mark having magic, he probably should have checked himself as well.)

Oh, and that Aunt Nara had some sort of nefarious plan involving Mark and Donghyuck. Also Kim Dongyoung, who is apparently _not_ missing and goes by Doyoung now, is back to save them. Johnny feels like he needs a drink. Maybe several.

“What the _fuck_?”

The man sitting across from him, Jaehyun, snorts and gets an elbow in the stomach from Taeyong.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Taeyong assures him. “I think your parents sealed your magic, which means that you can’t access it until it’s gone.”

Okay. It doesn’t make him feel any better that his parents hid something like this from him, but it’s a start. The universe is probably doing this to him because he hid stuff from Mark, isn’t it? Kind of like karma or something?

“I’ll… have a talk with my parents later about this,” Johnny sighs as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Right now, there’s more pressing matters to attend to.”

Mark is missing. Donghyuck, who apparently was Haechan, is also missing. He didn’t see either of them in the town or at the beach when he was running around, so where could they be? If his aunt is involved like they say she is, where would she take them? Even now, it’s hard for him to come to terms with everything.

“So, what’s the plan?” Johnny asks slowly. His stomach drops when he sees Taeyong look at Jaehyun, who looks at Doyoung, who’s still pacing back and forth in the doorway of the kitchen. “Please tell me you guys have _something._ ”

“I can see if I can track down one of them.” Doyoung stops pacing, rubbing at his chin with a distant look in his eyes. “I think my magic should be close to being fully recovered by now. I’m thinking maybe the woods?”

Now that he thinks about it, the people always told him to stay out of the woods when they first arrived in Jaegu. Something about them being haunted, where the lost children were last seen, and all other rumors. He mentally facepalms as he realizes that it’s also the only place he didn’t think to check when he was looking for Mark. 

He presses the palms of his hands against his face. Of course. “There was a cabin that Mark mentioned during one of our phone calls. It’s been a few years, but it’s probably still there?”

“A cabin?” Doyoung flops onto the couch with a sigh, leaning against Jaehyun as he runs his fingers against the edge of the coffee table. Johnny’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as a smoky map of Jaegu slowly appears, looking almost like a hologram. “That’s a good start. You know where it is?”

“Uh…” Johnny thinks back onto their previous conversations for a moment, snapping his fingers when it finally comes to him. “The heart of the woods! Or at least that’s what Mark said.”

Taeyong peers at the map and draws a circle with his finger, turning an area of the map blue. “Makes sense. This is where the corrupted magic is heaviest.”

Jaehyun looks up from his phone. “Sicheng said everything’s ready on his side. We just need to give him a few minutes for him to track Hyuck.”

Johnny wants to ask if they would also find Mark there, but bites his tongue. He should be patient, since they seem to know what they’re doing. They didn’t tell him who Sicheng is, but Johnny assumes that he’s another one of their witch friends. Taeyong shoots him a reassuring smile that he weakly returns as he sinks into the pillows, listening to the clock tick as they wait.

“Got it.” Jaehyun murmurs something under his breath as he runs his hands over the map. A small blue spot lights up like a beacon. “That should be where Hyuck is.”

Doyoung sighs as he turns to Johnny. “Normally I’d ask you to stay put, but I think we already know that you’d do anything to come with us.”

“Damn right,” he scoffs as he crosses his arms. “There’s no way I’m letting you go without me.”

After all, he needs to make sure that Mark is safe.

“I’ll protect you,” Taeyong chimes from his seat, giving him a thumbs up.

“Okay?”

“Don’t give me that look. I’m the best here at defensive magic.”

“That settles it,” Doyoung mutters as he pushes up his sleeves. “Let’s get ready.”

Johnny zones out as the rest of the group talks about certain spells and prep work that they might have to do, the topic of magic just flying over his head. He wonders if he can somehow convince Nara to let them go without a fight, but then again, he hasn’t seen her in years. She’s likely not the kind, welcoming aunt from his memories anymore.

It would be weird to fight a member of his family, just saying. Especially since all he can imagine is a poorly done fist fight. Maybe it’s like those fights in those Harry Potter fights?

Johnny watches in fascination as Taeyong draws some strange symbols onto Jaehyun’s arms with his finger, the lines glowing faintly before they disappear. Once he finishes, he turns to Doyoung and takes one of his arms.

Jaehyun must see the dumbfounded look on his face because he laughs. “They’re protection runes. Temporary spells we wear on the skin just in case something happens. Kind of like a magical tattoo. You’ll definitely need some if you’re coming along with us.”

“Mm,” Taeyong says, tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips in focus as he traces patterns only he can see. “For example, if Nara shoots a fireball at you, a defensive shield rune can protect you from it. Only once, but it’s better than nothing.”

_Oh god._

“Your turn,” Doyoung says as he pulls his sleeves back down, peering over Jaehyun’s shoulder at his phone. 

Johnny wonders if it hurts, but seeing how the other men hardly even flinched, he should be fine. Just some magical glowing tattoo. “Okay.”

Taeyong drops down next to him on the couch, smiling apologetically when Johnny flinches. “Let me know if you need a minute.”

“I’m fine.”

His finger is cold against his skin at first, but as he starts to draw, it becomes warm. Not unbearably hot, but a pleasant warmth that reminds him of sitting next to the fireplace. Johnny shivers as Taeyong draws down his arm, finishing with a circlet of lines and symbols around his wrist. They emit a faint glow before fading away, like nothing is there.

“All done.”

Well, that wasn’t too bad. Johnny rubs at his skin but doesn't feel anything out of place besides a light tingle. It goes away as quickly as it came. 

Doyoung leans forward, palms splayed on the coffee table. Johnny swears that he can feel some electricity in the air around him, crackling in his ears and humming under his skin. 

“Let’s go get them back.”


	7. Chapter 7

Donghyuck didn’t mean to get caught. No, he’s usually super careful when he knows something is dangerous — he’d rather not deal with an angry Doyoung, after all.

Still, he was blindsided by Nara as he was navigating the woods looking for Mark. Well, they did find each other but he kind of hoped that it wasn’t like this. He curses her dark magic with every fiber of his being as he tries to roll onto his stomach in this dark, moldy cabin. Unfortunately, the magicked ropes holding his wrists and ankles together don’t want to cooperate with him. 

Mark is also sadly unconscious, body propped up against the wall.

“Hey!” He calls out as he wiggles like a worm on the musty cabin floor. Disgusting. “What are you going to do to us?”

All he hears is some muffled humming and an unplaceable scratching sound in the distance. Donghyuck grits his teeth and tries to wiggle his wrists free, but it just makes it worse. Judging by the way the air seems to be getting colder by the minute, Nara is probably drawing up some traps just in case someone tries to rescue them. Or maybe some more magic transfer runes now that he’s not a ghost of a witch anymore. 

Either way, it doesn’t look so good for the both of them.

☾

Johnny has no idea what he’ll do when he sees Aunt Nara for the first time in years. Heck, he honestly doesn’t even remember what she looks like. All he wants is to grab Mark and get out of the woods as quickly as possible. The people he spoke to in the towns weren’t kidding when they said the woods are haunted.

“What the?” Johnny swats a tree branch away, watching wearily as it curls away from him like a snake.

“Everything in the woods is reacting to the corrupt magic,” Doyoung says as he flicks one away from his shoulder, nose scrunched up as if he smelled something bad. “They’ll be aggressive, so be careful.” 

Haunted woods, aggressive tree branches, and now corrupt magic. Johnny sighs as he shifts his baseball bat onto his other shoulder. A terrible choice of a weapon to bring to a magic fight, but he honestly doesn’t know what to bring.

Jaehyun pauses for a bit, holding up a hand to stop them from going any further. “Wait a minute.”

He barely manages to stop himself from running into Taeyong, stumbling back a few steps with a quiet apology, holding his breath when he feels it. A small wave of electricity in the air that brings goosebumps to his skin, similar to the feeling he got when he entered the storage room in the cottage. Something that doesn’t feel right, which must mean that they’re going in the right direction.

Right?

“Traps,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath as he crouches down, fingers running over the grass. “We’ll have to be quick. Nara will know that we’re coming the moment we set foot in the vicinity. Guess we have to make a run for it. Hyung?”

Taeyong nods and whispers something before blowing on his palms. Johnny blinks as he sees what appears to be small dandelion seeds fly out, dispersing into the air like mist. “You two go first.”

He startles when Doyoung and Jaehyun make a run for it, darting past the fine mist and into the trees. Taeyong turns to him and lightly taps the inside of his wrist to catch his attention. “On my signal, we’ll run after them, okay? Just run and stick close.”

“Got it,” he mumbles, swallowing nervously as he feels the air getting thicker. It’s almost like the trees are watching them, the shadows getting closer. 

Taeyong repeats the same routine and counts down under his breath. “Ready… and go!”

_ Okay, just run Johnny. Just run and stay close _ . 

There is a tingling feeling in his fingers and wrist that worries him, but it’s probably the runes on his skin doing their magic. The two of them dart through the trees for what seems like forever, ducking to avoid overzealous tree branches and jumping overgrown roots. He sees Jaehyun and Doyoung running in the distance, though their path is blocked by heavy branches that seem to wiggle towards each other. Almost like they’re forming a gate.

Taeyong says something that is lost in the wind, but the tree branches begin to recede. He pushes forward and ignores the way the branches whip against his bare skin, not enough to leave cuts, but sharp enough to hurt. As he runs through the makeshift opening, he feels the air distort and shift, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs.

Before he knows it, a pair of hands land on his shoulders to stop him. Doyoung smiles at him with flushed cheeks, chest heaving slightly from the run. “Whoa there, careful. We made it.”

It takes a few seconds for him to catch his breath and for his vision to stabilize, adjusting to the bright sunlight filtering through the trees. The trees aren’t as dense in this part of the woods ― it looks much, much calmer. 

Taeyong pants next to him, temporarily using his arm as a support. “Oh my god, I never want to do that again. Where are we?”

Jaehyun clicks his tongue as he checks his phone. “We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes until we get to the cabin.” He gestures to the left with his head. “This way.”

The four of them trudge silently through the woods, Jaehyun leading the way with Taeyong at the end for protection. Johnny shifts his baseball bat between his hands as he observes the land, frowning when he sees how the trees and grass are completely dead. It looks like old scorch marks, forming a strange doughnut shape. He gets chills when he thinks of what Taeyong told him back at the cottage, about last summer. 

This must be the place where Nara confronted Mark and Donghyuck last year. 

“Damn,” Doyoung whispers under his breath in shock somewhere behind him.

Johnny shifts in discomfort as the dead grass crunches underneath his feet, eyes darting around to look at the scorch patterns on the tree trunks around him. There’s something inherently unsettling about the way they form patterns into the dead wood, almost like the ancient symbols. He grips the baseball bat until his knuckles are white, fingers numb.

“Mark was here,” Jaehyun says, crouching by some tree roots. “There’s a trace of Hyuck’s magic, still fresh. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“This way,” Doyoung calls, gesturing towards a path covered in dust and dead leaves. “There are footprints here.”

Johnny feels his stomach drop as he rushes over. Sure enough, there are scuff marks and faint footprints amongst the dirt and dead foliage, closer to the edge of the covered path. He doesn’t know whether to be happy that Mark was here, or worried because the footprints lead deeper into the forest. His cousin never had a good sense of direction. 

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Taeyong gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be alright, Johnny.”

“I hope so,” he whispers as they follow Doyoung and Jaehyun.

Maybe he’s being a tad bit dramatic, but they walk for what seems like hours past tangled trees and shadows. They’re just following the path they assume Mark took and the location that Jaehyun’s friend is sending them to, but Johnny thinks they’re on the right track. Especially considering how he gets goosebumps on his skin like he did back in the cottage.

And then he sees it.

Past what looks like a gate formed from tree branches, he sees the cabin, old and worn down by time. The wood is almost more green than brown from mold, looking almost like it would collapse from a single touch. He knows for sure that Mark is in there. Just a gut feeling really, but when was his gut ever wrong?

Before he can take a step towards the clearing, Doyoung lets out a sharp exhale. ”She’s here.”

He can feel Taeyong stiffen next to him, their elbows touching as he presses closer. Jaehyun snaps his fingers and the branches separating them recede, until Johnny can finally see the woman standing between them and the cabin. 

She wears a flowy white dress that drags behind her on the dead grass, her long hair tied in a messy braid. It’s the dress she wore in the picture that was given to the police the day she went missing, he realizes. There’s ash on the hem of her dress, covering her bare feet up to her calves and on the tips of her fingers. 

Nara Seo smiles at them but it’s all teeth, sharp and dangerous. “I see you’ve come running back after all, Dongyoung.”

Besides him, Doyoung lets out a snarl as Jaehyun holds him back from lunging at her. As the sky gets darker and the winds begin to shift, Johnny finds that he can’t even recognize the woman from his memories anymore.

☾

_ You don’t have to do this.  _

Nara Seo is nothing like the ghost that Mark has been chasing all along.

Mark thinks that she has lost all of her compassion and humanity at this point, hellbent on chasing all of the wrong things. He knows what that is like, after all. She’s not going to have a change of heart no matter how hard he pleads. Even though he knows that Johnny is out there with Doyoung, Nara is still relentlessly attacking. 

_ I have a plan. Do you trust me? _

Mark inhales sharply as he maneuvers himself so that he can hold onto Donghyuck’s hand, muttering words that he memorized only hours before. His hands are shaking, he realizes as he watches the veins in them glow, trying to keep them as steady as possible. From this angle, he can’t see Donghyuck’s face clearly in the dark, but he hopes that it’s going like he imagined in his head. 

Magic transfer spells are notoriously difficult for the average witch to perform, mainly because they don’t have enough magic to allow them to perform them properly. In this case, Mark shouldn’t be able to do anything since he’s completely human. 

But Lee Donghyuck is practically a witch prodigy, with or without his magic.

All Mark has to do is say the words he memorized and he’ll do the rest. The faint buzzing he felt around his restraints is falling silent, leaving just a slight tingle at his fingertips. The light in his veins dies out, as if the warmth has been sucked right out of him, but not in an unpleasant way. More like his body is finally feeling normal again, no longer foreign to him, and he knows that the spell has gone right this time.

Donghyuck finally opens his eyes, molten gold in the dark. 

His magic has finally come home.

☾

“Will you marry me?”

Doyoung pulls Taeyong down with him just in time to avoid a rather nasty ball of dark energy, whipping his head around to look at his boyfriend in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You’re asking me to marry you in the middle of a  _ fight _ ?”

Jaehyun shrugs as he presses his fingers against the ground, vines erupting from the earth towards Nara, who snarls and burns them away with a spell. “You asked me out when we were running away from some possessed pixies. A week after we met. Well?”

“Oh my god,” Taeyong mutters breathily as he shares a look with Johnny. “These two are ridiculous.” He turns to look back up at Doyoung. “Can I be your best man though?”

Johnny makes a noise that sounds like a really bad wheeze before he continues to pelt rocks at his aunt. Turns out a baseball bat really does nothing in a fight involving magic. Normally he’d be concerned, but now’s not the time. 

“ _ Yes _ .” 

“Wait, are you saying yes to his proposal or my question—”

Doyoung sighs. “Both, Yongie.”

Jaehyun lets out a cheer, dimples wide on display.

“Can you guys discuss this later?” Donghyuck yells at them from somewhere in the cabin behind Nara.

Oh. Right. Doyoung’s eyes dart around the area while he casts some more shields, looking for an entrance so that he can get to his brother. The trees surrounding Nara and the cabin are overgrown and densely tangled to the point where hardly any light passes through. If he forces his way through, there’s a chance that Donghyuck or Mark will get hurt, which is the last thing he wants.

Unless he can find a way to separate them, which would temporarily stop Nara’s spell from progressing. He can tell that she’s already getting weaker, her magic becoming more and more unstable the longer their battle draws out. There’s something else in the air that feels a bit off, a shift in magic, which would only make sense if Donghyuck… 

“Yongie, do you remember the summer of 2018?”

“The summer of 2018―  _ oh _ .” Taeyong’s eyes dawn in realization as he pops a shield in front of Johnny. “Are you sure it will work? We can only fit two people.”

“I think it’s worth a try.”

They both turn to look at Johnny, who stares back like a deer in headlights with a large rock held above his head midthrow. “What?”

“Jaehyun, I need you to cover us while we get ready.” Doyoung says as he pushes up his sleeves, bending down to write a rune in the grass in front of Johnny. Taeyong does the same on the other side.

“Got it.”

Johnny looks absolutely terrified as a ring of light forms around his feet ― Doyoung doesn’t blame him. “Okay, Johnny. Taeyong and I are going to open up a portal. I want you to grab Mark when you enter the cabin, got it? Don’t worry about Hyuck. You’ll have ten seconds.”

“A portal? Oh my god. Okay, grab Mark in ten seconds.” Johnny stops fidgeting and pales. “You guys know what you’re doing right?”

“Of course.” To be honest, he hasn’t created a proper portal in almost a year and a half. Worst case scenario? Maybe they might accidentally teleport Johnny somewhere outside of the woods. “Tell Hyuck to prepare for a ritual. He’ll know which one. Ready?”

“No―”

With a small pop, Johnny vanishes. His useless baseball bat falls to the ground with a sad thunk.

Taeyong gives him a pointed look. “He wasn’t ready, Doie.”

He shrugs. “They never are.”

☾

Turns out that hopping into a portal isn’t as painful as he thought. His bones aren’t broken, his cells aren’t messed up, and he teleports into the cabin in one piece. Unfortunately, it’s a lot like being sucked into a giant vacuum or riding a life-threatening roller coaster. Johnny comes out with the strongest urge to either lie down or empty the contents of his stomach. Maybe even both.

Definitely not pleasant. He’s giving it a 0.5 out of 10. 

“Johnny?”

When he lifts his head, he sees two pairs of eyes staring back at him in confusion. Donghyuck and Mark are here in front of him. “Oh my god, Mark. You’re safe.” He turns to the other boy in the cabin, who studies him with an unreadable expression. “Donghyuck, your brother said to prepare for a ritual?”

There is a spark of recognition in his eyes. “ _ Oh _ .”

Ten seconds. He’s probably spending too much time just fighting the nausea. Johnny reaches out and pulls Mark in an awkward hug, considering their positions. His cousin makes a noise of protest, but before they could do anything else, the ring of light appears beneath their feet. Johnny lets out a string of unintelligible curses before they’re teleported away.

He nearly falls face first into the sand, Mark landing painfully on his hip. He groans and gently pushes his cousin off of him, inhaling sharply through his nose to get rid of the dizziness. 

Mark wheezes next to him. “What did you do?”

Johnny rolls onto his back and lies there for a second, breathing in the salty ocean air. Looks like they were teleported to the beach, far from the woods. “Doyoung and Taeyong opened a portal.”

“What about Hyuck?”

“He’ll be fine. Doyoung said he knew what to do.” He turns his head to look at him, brows furrowed. “You know, I have no clue what they plan to do with your mom.”

There’s a heavy silence as Mark fights his nausea, sprawled out on the sand next to him. Johnny thinks that the world is unfair, to give Mark something to search for, only to take it away as soon as he finds it. But as he looks at his cousin, with his eyes closed and a calm expression on his face, he thinks that he has finally found a sense of peace instead.

“That person in the woods is not my mom.” When Johnny doesn’t respond, he blindly reaches out until he can grab his fingers, which he squeezes gently. “I lost her all those years ago. I’ll be fine, hyung, no matter what happens.”

The ocean cries in the distance, but Johnny thinks that all will be okay.

☾

Kim Dongyoung had always revered the great Overseer of Jaegu, the witch who held the town that he grew up in together. She was someone who could teach him how to control his magic, how to keep the strings that he tried so hard to hold on to from snapping.

Now that he’s standing across from her, he finds that he had been scared of her all along. Fearful of her power, fearful of how easily she could manipulate others like puppets on strings. Fearful because while she taught him how to control his magic, she could easily take everything away from him just like that. He had already lost so much, and he did not want to lose his brother. 

Fear does funny things to people. He thinks that his fear had blinded him.

“Bring me back my son!” Nara screams at them, almost too pitchy to sound human, a swarm of shadowy insects flying towards them. He hates insects with a burning passion. “MARK!”

Donghyuck is still in the cabin, preparing. He knows what they plan to do. Doyoung’s eyes dart over to Jaehyun, who gives him a nearly imperceptible nod before casting an onslaught of offensive spells while Taeyong covers them with some shields. He can tell that their energy levels are quickly depleting, so he should get this done with as soon as possible.

Doyoung plops onto the grass and rolls up his sleeves, quickly drawing protection runes on his arms before he grabs the vial of ink from his pocket. He quickly uncorks it and dips a finger in, spreading the dark ink on the grass in front of him. The runes aren’t as neat as he would have liked, but he doesn’t have the time to worry about that. 

One, a rune of cleansing, to purify the woods of the corrupt and dying magic Nara has spread. 

Two, a rune of protection, to prevent her magic from bouncing back and contaminating theirs if the spell goes wrong. 

Three, a rune of amplification, to strengthen the power of the previous runes. Paired with the set of runes on Donghyuck’s end, there is a high chance of success.

And four, the most complicated of them all. A rune of sealing, to sever a witch’s connection to their magic.

Doyoung knows it’s considered cruel, taking someone’s ability to use their magic. It’s like taking away a piece of their soul, Kim Hyerin had told him once as a child when begged her to take his magic. He has no choice, since Nara had already crossed the line long ago. (That, and he didn’t spend months in an ancient library just to  _ not _ use the spell.)

“Are you almost done?” Taeyong hisses as he pushes back against a rather violent onslaught of dark magic. His legs and arms are shaking slightly from exhaustion — he won’t last. 

“Almost,” he replies as he dips his finger into the vial again, bending over to finish the connection between all of the runes. 

It’s not his best work and some of the lines nearly run into each other, but hopefully it should be enough now that Nara’s magic is mostly spent. He still hasn’t fully recovered from his confrontation with Nara a year ago, so he only has enough energy to cast this set of spells one time. Maybe once is all it takes.

Doyoung can’t help but crack a smile as he feels his brother’s warm magic reaching out to him. It’s a little fainter than he last remembered, but it’s present. Whole.

_ Now, Hyuck _ .

He pushes as much energy as he can muster into the runes, watching as the inky black color turns white and bleeds into the soil. On the other side, a soft glow emerges from the doorway of the cabin, and he can already feel the spells being amplified. Nara seems too lost in her rage to notice, still targeting Jaehyun and Taeyong.

The lines slither past overgrown tree roots and through the dying grass to form a circle around Nara. Doyoung finds himself holding his breath as she finally realizes what is going on, heart beating in his ears as she starts screaming a spell to counter it. He quickly pushes more of his magic into the runes as he sees the dark tendrils swirling around her like a tornado. 

One moment he’s bent over the runes, and the next he’s thrown backwards.

_ Is it over? _

Doyoung shakes his head to get rid of the ringing in his ears, groaning as he slowly gets into sitting position. His vision blurs as he moves, unable to focus — all he sees is a kaleidoscope of green and brown shades. When it finally clears, he sees Jaehyun coming towards him, brows furrowed with worry.

“—young. Doyoung?” He inhales sharply as Jaehyun gently brushes his hair from his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out shakily. “Did it work?”

“It did,” Taeyong says as he pops into view, hair an absolute windblown mess. He gives him a relieved, tired smile as he helps him to his feet. “You did it, Doie. Go get Hyuck and we’ll teleport her to the Seo residence.”

Right, her family will decide what they wish to do with her. Nara lies in the fading circle of rune magic, passed out from exhaustion. There are glowing white lines around her wrists, meaning that she shouldn’t be able to access her magic anytime soon. He ignores her completely and limps over to the cabin, throwing open the molded door to find Donghyuck.

His brother is sprawled out on the floor of the cabin with cut magicked ties hanging off his ankles, lifting his head tiredly to squint at him in the doorway. There’s a pout on his face that makes him look like a petulant child, but in the year that he hasn’t seen him, his brother looks much more mature. Like he didn’t sleep in days, but alive. “Took you long enough.”

A year too late. Doyoung gives him a wet smile, dropping down to embrace his brother in a tight hug. “Nice to see you too, Hyuck.”

If they both sob like babies, they don’t mention it on the trip home. (Taeyong has it on video though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't really do action scenes LOL last chapter will be posted tomorrow!


	8. Chapter 8

There is a grand trial or something, but Mark doesn’t attend. He can’t seem to bring himself to attend — the thought of condemning his own mom strikes him with fear. Donghyuck and Doyoung go instead in order to provide their testimonies while he stays holed up in his room. Pacing and pacing, thinking and thinking some more, until he finally finds the courage to meet her in person.

Seo Nara will be temporarily stripped of her powers and sent to a rehabilitation center for witches, somewhere far from Seoul. Mark hears from Sicheng that it’s most likely the facility in London. She will be there until she swears off dark magic usage, but Mark thinks that it’s too late. The magic has already left its mark on her. 

_ Do you hate me for what I did to you _ ?

He thinks about the missing children and their photos on the wall, who will never get to go home. The residents of Jaegu, who lived in fear that their children would be next. Doyoung, who spent a year searching for answers. Donghyuck, who missed out on a year in his life, trapped inside a beloved music box he can no longer look at. Everyone who has been lost in time the past year, himself included.

Can he say that he truly resents her?

Sitting across from him, he sees defeat in her eyes and the lines of her face. Embarrassment, but not a hint of remorse. Maybe it has been a long time since she last felt guilty. Maybe she still truly believes that giving him magic is the only answer to her problems. 

“I’m learning to let you go,” he says quietly in the end. “I’m going to move on with my life and I think you should too. Until then, I can’t forgive you for what you did.”

It’s like the rubber band all over again, pulled longer and longer until it finally snaps. She screams at him until Doyoung enters the room to coax him out into the hallway, calling someone to escort her back to her room. Her voice echoes in his ears long after she is gone. 

His hands are shaking, but his heart is sure that he made the right choice.

☾

Mark taps his foot nervously as he wraps his hands around the mug of warm coffee, eyes darting to the door and away. Back and away. Back again. He’s about fifteen minutes early so he shouldn’t be expecting anything, but his nerves are all over the place. He looks back to the door again, foot accidentally tapping against Donghyuck’s under the table.

Donghyuck makes a noise under his breath, reaching over to tug at Mark’s fingers. He relaxes his tight grip on his mug and lets his boyfriend intertwine their fingers, focusing on the thumb drawing circles into his skin. “What’s wrong?”

Mark lets out a slow breath. “I haven’t seen him in nearly half a year? I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Donghyuck asks, a worried look in his eyes. 

“No, it’s okay,” Mark replies fondly as he gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I need to do this on my own. Besides, don’t you have a meeting with Doyoung in a bit?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather spend time with my boyfriend,” Donghyuck says with a pout. “Taeyong-hyung’s gonna be there. Why do I have to be there too?”

“Because you’re his beloved little brother and he wants you to be involved in the wedding planning?”

Donghyuck snorts, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and he shoots down my suggestion of playing Careless Whisper for their first dance.”

Mark stares at him for a beat. “You were the one who suggested Careless Whisper?”

Donghyuck blinks. “Don’t tell me you were one of the three who voted no?”

“It was Yuta,” he quickly lies, laughing when his boyfriend scowls and reaches over to flick his forehead. “Ow! I’m sorry, it just doesn’t fit!”

“You just don’t see my vision, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck scowls, though it melts away as quickly as it came. “Hey, isn’t that him?”

He hears his heart pounding in his ears when he turns to look at the door, fully expecting to see the same man he remembers from the last couple of months. A ghost in an empty apartment. It surprises him when he sees his dad, clean-shaven and less gaunt than before, walking into the diner looking normal. Healthier, less haunted.

Lee Myungsoo looks at peace, in a way. 

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Donghyuck says softly, blowing him a kiss as he slides out of his seat. “I’ll be in the back with Jaemin.”

Mark watches Donghyuck’s receding figure until he disappears behind the door to the back room. He swallows the lump in his throat and stands up, catching his dad’s eye. His dad gives him an awkward wave and heads over to the table, sliding into the seat across from him after a moment’s hesitation. There’s a slight tremble in his dad’s fingers that tell him he’s just as nervous as he is, just as scared. Mark stays silent when a waitress stops by to get his dad’s order, fiddling with the misshapen friendship bracelet Jaemin had gifted him around his wrist.

“How have you been?” Myungsoo asks tentatively after the waitress brings him a mug of coffee, stirring a packet of sugar into it.

“I’ve been good,” he responds bluntly. This is a conversation he doesn’t want to unnecessarily drag on. “I heard that Johnny told you everything on the ride to Jaegu.” 

“He did,” Myungsoo nods solemnly, wrapping both of his hands around his mug. “Listen, Mark, I just… want to apologize for everything.”

He looks down at his own mug of coffee, not really sure what he should say. 

“I never should have hit you that day. You kept asking about your mom while I was running around hiding you from her, and I just…” He shakes his head firmly. “No, that’s no excuse. I should have never done that. I’m sorry, Mark.”

He thinks back to the night he ran away, about the terrified look in his dad’s eyes when he left the apartment. Johnny said that his dad was outside looking for him as well when he got the call. Even though he didn’t see him in person after the incident, Mark likes to think that he felt remorse for what he did, unlike his mom. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet,” he admits. “That isn’t an excuse for you to be an absent father. I needed you  _ there _ .”

_ Not a ghost.  _

Myungsoo flinches at his words, but nods in understanding. “You’re right. I wasn’t there when you needed me, but I promise. I promise you I will do my best to make up for it if you’ll give me the chance.”

Mark thinks about Donghyuck, who told him to give him a second chance if his heart feels like it. After all, he is family. He remembers the loving dad in Toronto who watched over him like a hawk, always ready to catch him when he fell, who protected him from his mom during her mood switches. Someone he used to look up to, though time had changed both of them. 

He sees the determination in his father’s eyes and maybe, just maybe, it might be alright to believe in second chances again. 

“I go back to uni two weeks from now,” Mark says after a sip of coffee. It has gone cold from all the waiting he did. “If you want, you can help me move back into the dorms? Send me off, the kind of thing that parents do.”

Myungsoo gapes at him for a while, seemingly taken back. “You’re giving me a chance?”

“Hyuck brought up some good points,” he admits as he fiddles with his fingers, unable to contain the fond smile that comes to his face when he thinks of his boyfriend. “You know how he is.”

“He always did have a way with words,” Myungsoo says with a soft chuckle. “A very convincing young man. I’m glad you two are still together.”

Mark looks at the door to the back room, where he knows Donghyuck and Jaemin are. “I have a lot of time to make up too.”

A year lost. Donghyuck always waves him off whenever he tries to bring it up, saying that it’s not necessary to worry over it, but still. He feels guilty whenever it comes up in his mind. Maybe this is how his dad feels right now. 

“I have to get back to Seoul, sign some papers and meet with some lawyers, but I’m glad you allowed me to meet up with you today.” Myungsoo looks down at the wedding band still on his finger, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Will you be staying here with Johnny for the time being?”

“Yeah,” he nods as he pretends not to notice. “I still have things that I need to do.”

It’s for the best, for them to finally move on.

“Take care of yourself… Dad.”

For the first time in years, Mark sees it in his eyes when his dad smiles. Fervent, unbridled joy. 

He smiles too. 

☾

“Dude, you’re back!” 

Mark barely has time to drop his backpack on the floor before he’s being crushed in a bear hug by Yukhei. He swears he hears something in his body crack, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of his other friends coming at them. Jeno gives him a fistbump after Yukhei finally releases him while Renjun throws an arm over his shoulders. “So how was Jaegu?” Renjun asks as they walk down the sidewalk towards the school fountain. “Spent most of your time hanging out with old people?”

Mark snorts as he thinks about his last couple of days in Jaegu and how Hyerin made him help prepare a bunch of potions before he left instead of spending time with his boyfriend. Kind of disappointing, but Donghyuck had things to take care of so he couldn’t be there anyways. “Something like that. It was… pretty wild.”

“Tell us about it,” Jeno says as he plops down onto the grass, shifting to rest his head on Renjun’s shoulder. The other boy rolls his eyes, but smiles fondly at him. “We have plenty of time.”

“Tell me about your vacations first.”

He listens to Jeno talk about how he spent his vacation volunteering at an animal shelter, where he took care of the cats despite his allergies. Renjun went to visit some relatives in China, and Mark tries not to look surprised when he mentions that Sicheng is his cousin. Yukhei is in the middle of retelling his crazy ghost experience while camping with his family when Mark feels a slight tingle at the tips of his fingers. He frowns, wiggling them around. 

“MARK LEE!”

“Huh?” Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as he whips his head around at the sound of a familiar voice.

_ No way _ .

Donghyuck is here in the flesh, wearing a black t-shirt with a sunflower on it, ballet shoes hanging around his neck. He grins cheekily as he bounces up to him, hair a little too long and falling into his eyes. He’s here, in Seoul, at the university Mark attends. His friends peer up at them curiously, though Jeno smiles like he already knows.

“Hi, I’m Mark’s boyfriend, Donghyuck.”

Renjun chokes on his water next to him. Jeno quickly procures a napkin out of nowhere and hands it to him. “You somehow got a boyfriend in a town full of old people?” 

“I thought he was joking.” 

“You knew?”

Mark ignores them and pulls Donghyuck into a tight hug, giving a short laugh in disbelief. “You’re here! What?”

“I’m an incoming freshman here,” Donghyuck says, laughing as Mark raises an eyebrow. “Really! I got the dance scholarship. Everyone’s coming back to Seoul anyways, so it’s been super boring in Jaegu.”

He wonders if he means Jaemin, Taeyong, Doyoung, and Jaehyun. Mark presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Hyuck.”

“Ehem, we’re still here, Mark.”

Mark turns beet red while Donghyuck laughs at his embarrassment. He sheepishly introduces Donghyuck to Yukhei, Renjun, and Jeno, watching fondly as they quickly get along. Almost like they have been friends for years, but then again, Donghyuck has that kind of effect on people. 

“Hey, Donghyuck. How do you feel about demon summoning rituals?” Yukhei asks with a straight face after they finish summing up Mark’s (fabricated) vacation story. “Do you think demons exist?”

“I think,” Donghyuck says as he looks at Mark, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “that anything is possible.”

Wait, what? Now that he thinks about it, he never had the chance to ask any of the witches if those rituals actually worked.

“Cool. Wanna join us for a summoning session tonight?”

Mark can only sigh when Donghyuck eagerly agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We finally reached the (unfortunately super short) end of the series! This whole piece has been super challenging for me to write but I had a lot of fun doing so. I originally wanted to write a prequel in Doyoung or Donghyuck's perspective and a sequel in Johnny's, but it didn't happen. Maybe someday in the future I'll find the motivation to write it haha but for now, feel free to ask questions in the comments or in my curiouscat ;v;
> 
> Thank you again for reading~ I really appreciate all of the questions and comments I received and look forward to growing as a writer! OvO)/ 💖✨

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/taeyyoo) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/taeyyoo)


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